Making History 1 The Fate of One
by FairyTale
Summary: On the peak of emotional darkness, Harry sees a chance to get his biggest wish fulfilled. Yet he has to be careful, lest he lose another person he holds dear. And it's not exactly in his hands to decide COMPLETE
1. Back To Reality

**Making History (1) – The Fate Of One**

_long_ A/N ahead, sorry – but it's the first chapter

Here it is, the first fic in the Making History Trilogy! Today you get two chapters, because I won't manage to update for the next fortnight as I'm on holiday. But finally the fic is finished to be posted. It'll be around 35 chapters, I haven't yet broken the later part of it into chapters so I can't say precisely. The chapters are shorter than in "Hunting The Traitor", depending on the chapter length there will be one or two updates a week. It's canon, but as the posting of the second and third fic might take until well into next year when the 6th novel is bound to come out, it might become AU at some point. We'll see. On with the disclaimers:

Disclaimer: I don't own anything here except the plot and the occasional original character. All Harry Potter™ settings and characters are the sole intellectual property of Joanne K. Rowling, her publishers, Warner Bros. and a lot of others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made with this story as it was written for enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13, the usual occasional swear word and piece of violence here or there, as always nothing serious.

Summary: 1st in the "Making History"-Trilogy.

In the aftermath of "Order of the Phoenix", everybody tries in their own way to deal with what has happened. But there is not much time for processing and self-reflection. The war has started, and the Order finds itself faced with the impossible task of stopping Voldemort before it's too late. There is no time for personal problems to interfere with the fate of the wizarding world. Yet personal problems never ask whether it is the right time for them to appear or not. Something from out of Remus' past suddenly surfaces, and Remus is not ready to deal with it in any way. His life is at stake, and there is nothing that can be done to save him – except from one very dangerous thing. And the only person who could save Remus' life is a person who does not want to awaken the ghosts of his own past – Severus Snape.

Now Harry has his own reasons to interfere with Remus' business, and though he only wants to do good, he increases the danger for everybody involved. What he foolishly sets in motion has to be finished. Only, nobody can say what prize will have to be paid for it. The only place where all the questions will be answered is the last place Harry ever wanted to see again – the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. Yet that is exactly where he has to go to save the life of another person he holds dearly. Or where he might lose another one he cares for.

The fic is centred mostly on Harry and the adult characters, though of course Ron and Hermione appear. But for the most part, it focuses on either Harry or Remus. Occasionally, the point of view might shift between the two between the single chapters, but when that happens it should be obvious in the flow of the story.

Note: If anybody who read "Hunting the Traitor" might be confused about Janus Lupin the way he appears in this story here, don't be too surprised. I took the liberty of changing his background a little. Why? Two reasons: 1st: "HTT" was an AU, so everything that happened in that story did not necessarily happen _here_. 2nd: As "Order of the Phoenix" revealed the Unspeakables to be brain-growing, Death Chamber-guarding and indeed very strange guys and not the elite-Aurors I always imagined them to be, Janus Lupin in this story is an Auror. A good one, with a reputation and an attitude, as you might be able to imagine. Otherwise, he's still the lovable, cold-hearted bastard with difficult family relations we've gotten to know in early HTT. That's it. He only appears later in the story, anyway.

This fic is dedicated to Morgan D., because with her intense and mature perspective on HP and fic-writing in general she enriches the fandom far more than she probably knows. And on a more selfish basis, she has been a great friend, support and help for me, both in the small details as well as with the things on a larger scale. It's a good feeling to have her around.

And it's for Eva, for being a friend.

Climbs off her soap box and leaves the audience to read the story

Enjoy!

**Chapter 01 – Back To Reality**

As he had done many times before during the past two weeks, Remus Lupin was sitting in his room at No. 12 Grimmauld Place and stared at the wall. Actually, stating that it was his room was not the whole truth, as he had only occupied it a few weeks ago. Before, the room had belonged to his friend Sirius. Until slightly more than three weeks ago. Until, Remus remembered with a mental sigh, until Sirius had fallen through that blasted veil.

Until Sirius had died.

Remus bit his lip to keep his emotions from spilling out and moved the armchair he was currently occupying closer towards the window and stared out into the bright London summer day.

The other members of the Order were downstairs, in the kitchen probably, discussing whatever it was they were planning now to try and stop Voldemort. Normally, Remus would be with them. _Should_ be with them. After Sirius' death he had literally thrown himself into the Order work, into anything that would keep him from thinking too much about what had happened. While the last week of lessons at Hogwarts had passed by and Harry had been safely in the castle, Remus had hardly spent any waking hour thinking about anything related to the teenager or to his late friend. He had not been able to sleep for longer than three or four hours at night, and so he had spent most of the day with working out plans, searching through intercepted letters and messages, translating documents, establishing and keeping contact with Dumbledore's allies all throughout Britain. The other members of the Order of course had realized how little he was sleeping and how much he had been working, but he firmly refused every offer of brewing him a sleeping potion. Remus had had his fair share of them after Voldemort's first downfall, and back then he had learned the hard way that while they made sleeping easier they were also pretty difficult to let go of later. And anyway, they only pushed the nightmares aside until the time when the potion was no longer taken.

After that, except from Albus Dumbledore nobody had dared to approach him with anything that was not work-related and even when the old headmaster had gently asked Remus to stop working so hard and see to his own physical needs first it had not been one of the most successful things Albus Dumbledore had ever done. As concerned as Dumbledore might have been, he simply did not understand.

After that week of pushing aside the thought that his last friend had died when it had been absolutely needless, after seeing Harry to Surrey safely and doing the little he could do to ensure that James' son was taken care of at least better than during the previous years, reality had caught up with Remus like a speed train.

Full moon had been two days after Remus and the other Order Members had had their little talk with the Dursleys and as usual, Remus had spent the night safely locked up in the basement of his own small and run down cottage, warded and secured both magically and manually. There had been no time for Severus Snape to brew the Wolfsbane potion that month, unfortunately. Too many other things to attend to, too many meetings and summonings, too much other work for the Order's latest plan. Remus had assured those who were concerned enough about him to care that it would be no problem to get through the night without the potion, and indeed he had been convinced of that. After all, he had been through many of those transformations without the help of Snape's bitter brew, and one more would not kill him.

Or so he had thought.

Where Remus had been able to push his own thoughts about Sirius' death and the unanswered questions about who was to blame for it aside, Moony could not. Moony knew that his pack mate was gone for good this time, and he had raged that night in his grief. A rage that, for the lack of anything else to vent the anger out on, had turned on Remus.

Had Dumbledore not in a moment of foresight brought Madam Pomfrey with him when he came to look after him in the morning, Remus would not have survived the night. Even so it had taken the combined effort of the nurse and the powerful older wizard to keep Remus amongst the living, something he did not know whether he should be thankful for or not.

Ever since that night, Remus had spent his time first recovering and then brooding up here in what had once been Sirius' childhood room. His physical recovery had taken some time, and even though Madam Pomfrey had declared him physically fine yesterday morning, the truth was that Remus still felt extremely weak. Far weaker than he usually felt a week after a transformation, but he had hidden that fact from the Hogwarts nurse. If there was one thing he absolutely didn't want right now, it was her well-meant but unnerving hovering and fussing around and about him.

The other Order members had tried a couple of times to break through his shields and get him interested in anything again, but to no avail. And as there were more important things to be done than trying to get through to a depressed werewolf, they had left him to his brooding and did not try to actively involve him in the work that needed to be done anymore.

Remus knew he should feel guilty for letting them hang like that, he was aware that there were some areas of the research work that had to be done where his experience and skills could be of essential help, but he simply could not bring himself to care.

He had tried, of course. He definitely had tried, but had quickly found out that whatever he tried to do he simply wasn't able to keep thoughts about Sirius' death and the moments that had led to it at bay anymore. The images just kept flashing by in front of his inner eye and threw him into that bottomless hole of depression again and again, no matter what he was trying to do. It simply hurt him too much to think about anything else for the moment, and if he was completely honest with himself Remus did not know whether he could still see the sense in the Order work.

A month ago, a thought like that would not even have occurred to him, but Sirius' death seemed to have taken away the importance of all the aims he had been trying to achieve. Where was the sense in freeing the world from Voldemort when Remus knew exactly that it would not free him from his own personal hell? Where was the sense in establishing a safe and stable order for the wizarding community again when Remus knew that this as well came too late for himself and especially for Sirius? He was being selfish, Remus knew that, but after a lifetime of caring about the bigger things, after a lifetime of placing others' needs far above his own, Remus thought he had earned to be selfish.

Sirius would not have given up like this, Remus knew. But Sirius also had been stupid enough to taunt Bellatrix instead of keeping up his defences.

James wouldn't have given up, either. No, not him. Not golden James Potter who had willingly given his own life just for the slight chance that it might save his wife and son. But then again James had been the first of them to go, he had been the one to take the martyr's way out before he knew how much it hurt to be the one who was left behind. James had never known that there was only so much hurt one single person could endure before they broke.

Remus had gone through those thoughts numerous times during the past week. More often definitely than he thought about Harry and how he was coping. He did not know how the teenager was doing, had not heard anything from Surrey since they had parted at King's Cross. Obviously, the letters Harry had promised to write to inform the Order members about his wellbeing arrived regularly, otherwise he would have heard about it. But Remus had not asked anybody what those letters said, or if they sounded as if Harry was coping well with what had happened to him, and to Sirius. The truth was that Remus didn't really care. Whenever his thoughts drifted to the teenager, Remus could not help but thinking that whatever Harry was going through now, he had earned it. As soon as those thoughts came, Remus scolded himself and felt guilty for them. He knew that Harry was not the one to blame for Sirius' death, he knew that what the teenager had done that night in the Department of Mysteries had happened because Harry had cared for Sirius and had wanted to keep him from coming to harm. Harry might have acted rashly, he might have done exactly the wrong thing and walked straight into Voldemort's trap, but he simply had not known better. Had the Order and Dumbledore not kept so much information from him, things might have ended differently that night. Remus knew that Harry was not to blame, but one small part of his brain just could not stop thinking that for once Harry should have thought first before he had acted.

Remus sighed and rubbed his left hand across the back of his right hand as if to bring the warmth back into it. Maybe he should stop brooding up here and go downstairs to see if there wasn't something he could do to distract himself. Some errand-boy-work with no responsibility at all, just to keep himself from thinking. Something to tire him out so that he would be able to sleep again. Maybe the nightmares would vanish that way, if he only tired himself out sufficiently.

While he was contemplating this, his sensitive hearing picked up footsteps on the stairs to the second floor. Nobody except from him was up here, so obviously someone had decided to try and talk to him another time. Remus heard the low thud-clong, thud-clong of the steps which immediately told him that it was Mad Eye Moody who was coming this time. Well, that was something new for a change, after Molly, Arthur, Albus, Tonks and Kingsley had already tried their luck with him.

Remus listened motionlessly as the footsteps approached and finally stopped in front of his door. But Moody didn't knock. Remus could practically imagine him looking through the wooden door with his magic eye.

"You can as well come in, Alastor."

The door opened immediately and the slightly hunched form of Mad Eye Moody appeared in the frame. He looked Remus up and down once with both of his eyes, then gave a sigh and leaned against the doorframe.

"Boy, you're a mess."

Remus did not even look at him when he answered.

"Do I hear right and _you_ are calling _me_ 'boy' here? I'd guess that about sixty percent of your body-parts are by far younger than me."

Moody laughed, a low rumbling sound that was hanging somewhere between being comforting and being scary.

"My, do my old ears betray me? Was that a joke out of Remus Lupin's mouth? I can hardly wait to tell Kingsley about that."

Remus shrugged and finally tore his gaze away from the window.

"Actually it was a desperate attempt to express my sad and angry view on the world as a whole and you in particular, but take it as a joke if that helps to brighten your day. What do you want, Alastor?"

"We received a fire-call a minute ago and I think you should have a look at it."

Remus shook his head before Moody could even continue. No matter that he had thought about finding something to occupy himself with only moments ago, Remus did not want to give anybody the feeling that they had finally managed to turn him into his own self again. That Remus Lupin had gone the moment Sirius had fallen through that veil and had taken all perspective with him.

"No Alastor, no matter what it is, send somebody else. I'm not really ready for anything like that yet."

"It's about Potter."

Remus eyebrows quirked up in interest, a first in the last three weeks.

"What about him?"

"Arabella Figg said that some of his alarms have gone off a couple of minutes ago, telling her that the wards around Privet Drive have been breached."

Remus' heartbeat quickened beyond his ability to control it. A lump formed in his throat. Please not also Harry. Not him too.

"An attack?"

Moody shook his head.

"No, strange thing is the wards seem to have been breached from the inside, meaning Potter has left them on his own."

"Did nobody see him leave? What about Arabella, it was her duty to watch him, wasn't it?"

"It was, but she can't watch the house twenty-four hours a day, you know that. When she came home from her weekly shopping her alarms had already gone off, and when she rang the bell at the Dursleys', nobody answered."

Remus sank back into his armchair and shrugged in relief.

"You don't get all worked up about nobody being home, do you? They might have gone on a one-day trip for all that we know. Or maybe Harry just needed some fresh air, so what? Let the kid have some room, for Merlin's sake! You can't keep him locked up in the house and the few streets around it for the entire holiday, no matter if he's Harry Potter or not. He wrote us letters saying that he was fine, just like we asked of him, so why do you get so upset just because he isn't home for the day? What do you want me to do about it, run through Little Whinging and search for him?"

Moody watched Remus with his real eye, the magical one rolled into the back of his head and supposedly watching the ghoul in the attic or whatever else.

"Dumbledore placed a tracking charm on him at the beginning of the holiday, just to make sure. Of course Potter does not know about it."

Remus rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Well, that's good, isn't it? Bloody great idea! Just track him down and you know where he is, a second year student at Hogwarts could to that. Surely you thought about that."

Moody nodded gravely and suddenly Remus got the sinking feeling that something was seriously wrong and that he was wasting precious time with petty talking here.

"What is it, Alastor?"

"Arabella already told Dumbledore a couple of times that the kid was not looking good the few times she saw him, no matter the letters. So when Potter seemingly disappeared, the first thing she did was tracking him down like Dumbledore had shown her to."

Remus frowned.

"And where is Harry?"

"Little Whinging Hospital."

The lump in Remus' throat was back again, and he felt as if somebody had just turned his stomach inside out.

"Maybe it's his aunt or uncle. Or his cousin. It doesn't have to mean that something happened to him."

Moody nodded slowly and Remus knew that he was believing those words as little as Remus himself did.

"No, it doesn't have to. But Figg is asking _you_ to find that out. Kingsley prepared a portkey, it's set and ready."

Remus nodded again, thought for a moment and eventually got up from his armchair.

"All right, I'll have a look at it."

"I knew you'd say that. Now, it'd be best to report back once you know what is going on down there so that we can decide on what to do next. In case it's serious, we'll have to inform Dumbledore about it."

Remus frowned.

"He doesn't know yet? I thought that Albus was always the first to get alerted by the alarms."

"He is, but he's in a long-winded meeting with Minister Fudge since early this morning. And from the looks of it, Fudge's big on privacy at the moment. None of our calls were patched through, as soon as you've reported back Kingsley will apparate to the Ministry himself. If necessary."

Moody nodded at Remus and the two men left the room and went down into the kitchen, passing the portrait of Sirius' mother which was thankfully silent. Ever since she had gotten to know about her son's death, she had been positively gleeful. Remus had already considered to get rid of her with the use of some petrol and a match, but so far had refrained himself from it. Wouldn't want to burn down headquarters, now would he?

They reached the kitchen where the tall and dark form of Kingsley Shacklebolt was leaning against the table, a rubber glove lying next to him. He looked up when the two entered the otherwise empty room and his broad mouth stretched into a smile.

"Look who has finally decided to leave his room in the attic. The wallpaper stopped moving, I assume?"

Remus didn't answer, knowing fully well that both Alastor and Kingsley were only talking that lightly because they wanted to hide their worry and confusion about what might have happened to get Harry into hospital, though they might have less personal motives about it. But if Harry was needed as the only chance the wizarding world had to bring Voldemort down, Remus could not begrudge them for worrying that something might have happened to him that could smash those hopes. Right now, all hopes of ever winning against Voldemort were feeble, anyway. Kingsley pointed towards the glove on the table with his wand.

"Your portkey, set and ready. Just pick it up and within five seconds you'll be on your way."

Remus nodded.

"Where will it take me?"

"If I did it right, straight into a small side-alley across the road from the hospital."

Remus frowned. "And if you didn't do it right?"

Kingsley shrugged and showed his straight white teeth in another broad smile.

"Nepal, or if you're really lucky South Korea. No matter what, it should be a nice distraction from staring out of the window for the entire day."

Remus just shook his head and stepped towards the table.

"I'll get back to you as soon as I know what is wrong with Harry."

He nodded at the two men and reached for the glove on the table.

"Good luck, Remus."

Before he could answer, Remus felt a huge tuck behind his navel and the world lost its focus.


	2. Appearances

**Chapter 02 – Appearances**

A moment later Remus found himself not in Nepal or South Korea, but, much to his relief, indeed in a small and empty side alley across from the hospital. With a quick glance to make sure that indeed nobody was there to watch him, Remus pulled out his wand and transformed his robes into muggle jeans and a t-shirt, then set off towards the main entrance of the hospital. He went through the glass doors and took a good look around in the waiting area. Little Whinging was a rather small suburb, so the hospital here was not really big either. A young nurse was sitting behind a counter across from the entrance doors and to Remus' right about six or seven people were sitting in uncomfortable looking plastic chairs, waiting for their treatment.

Remus' eyes immediately fell onto the two people at the far off end of the room who did their best to appear as if they were not there at all. The man had an extremely red face, as if he had been arguing with somebody for a length of time, while the woman's sour lines around her nose and mouth were extremely pronounced as she was filling out a form on a wooden clipboard. Remus went over towards them.

"Good morning Mrs. Dursley, Mr. Dursley."

The Dursleys looked up and Remus could read how they were trying to remember who he was and why he knew their names. The fact that Remus was not wearing any robes seemed to make it difficult for them, and for a moment Remus wondered how Harry had ever managed to live together with them for such a long time. Eventually, Petunia seemed to remember their encounter at King's Cross.

"You!" She shrieked, alerting the nurse and the other occupants in the room. Realizing that any more attention was not what she wanted, she lowered her voice again. "What are you doing here? Can't you just leave us alone?"

Remus shook his head and pulled over a chair to sit across from the Dursleys. He didn't particularly care whether they were comfortable in his presence or not, he simply wanted to find out what was going on here.

"No, unfortunately I cannot leave you alone, not if we get to know that Harry is here in this hospital. So would you care to tell me what happened to him?"

"What happened?", Vernon Dursley roared. It was incredible, but this man could actually roar without being too loud about it. Remus shook his head and decided to let him finish.

"You think I want to be here? The boy has been a nuisance ever since he arrived, always stirring up trouble, always going against us. We didn't do anything, only so that you know, that's all his own doing. He should be thankful that we brought him to the hospital at all, but I can already see your lot placing the blame on us!"

Remus raised his eyebrows in complete and utter confusion.

"What on earth are you talking about?"  
"I'm talking about that I'm not going to take the responsibility for this one, no matter what your lot might think!"

"Mr. Dursley, would you please care to explain what has actually happened to bring Harry here, because I'm still at a loss as to what happened."

Vernon Dursley stared hard at Remus, an expression of extreme anger on his face.

"That idiot boy tried to commit suicide!"

Remus' heart stopped for a beat or two and he didn't even realize that he was balling his hands into fists hard enough so that his fingernails drew blood.

"What did you say?", he asked, his voice tight with barely contained shock and anger.

"Either that, or his cooking leaves much to be desired. If I had known that he had all those…those _ingredients_ in his trunk, I'd have locked it up again! No, if I'd known that, I'd never have let him into my house again in the first place! What if he had given this…this _stuff_ to my son, or my wife? He could have killed us all with those freakish brews!"

Remus had a hard time fighting for his composure.

"What did Harry do?"

"I told you, didn't I? He brewed up something and drank it. Was barely breathing when we found him, so we brought him to the hospital. I didn't want to, but what should we have done? We'd only have gotten into trouble with the police or with…your lot, otherwise. Didn't call the ambulance, though, would only have drawn the attention of our neighbours. Lucky for the boy that he didn't also vomit into the car, I got the upholstery done new only two months ago!"

But Remus didn't really listen anymore. It just could not be true, could it? Why had nobody realized? Harry had written the letters in which he told the Order members that he was doing all right, hadn't he? Why had nobody realized that something was amiss? Would he have been able to prevent this, had he only cared enough about anything but his own depression to take the time and read the letters? He tried to still his erratic breathing and heartbeat before he spoke again. And he hoped that this ignorant muggle would not give him more reason to lose his composure.

"You are trying to tell me that Harry – your _nephew_, if I have to remind you – was sad or depressed enough to try and take his life, and that you did not realize what was going on?"  
Vernon stuttered indignantly and Petunia's mouth drew into an even tighter line, but before they could say anything else, he waved their protests off.

"Doesn't matter now. Where is Harry now?"

This time it was Petunia who answered. "They carted him off through that door when we arrived here and told us we could not leave until we had filled out those forms. That's all we know."

She didn't seem particularly interested in knowing more, but this time Remus refrained from throttling her. He had better things to do right now, like informing Headquarters, for example. He desperately needed a fireplace, and that meant he had to leave the hospital as soon as possible. If Harry had indeed tried to poison himself, then muggle doctors might not realize what he had done. One could poison themselves with the ingredients in a fifth year's potion kit, it all depended on how thoroughly one was with it. And Remus' hope at the moment was that Harry had never been particularly talented with potions. But better be safe than sorry before the muggle doctors overlooked something they were not even searching for. Remus jumped to his feet and pointed his finger at Petunia and Vernon.

"You fill out those forms and then you stay here until I come back, is that understood? I would not try to leave nevertheless if I were you, we know where you live. And we will find you, no matter where you go to. When I come back, you in your role as Harry's guardians will allow me and whoever I bring along to see Harry even though we're not related. After _that_ you may go home. Did I make myself clear?"

Petunia nodded mutely, seemingly intimidated by the sudden feral seriousness in Remus' voice, and though Vernon didn't move or acknowledge Remus in any way, he didn't think Harry's uncle would make problems.

Without another word at the Dursleys, Remus stormed out of the hospital, across the street and back into the small side alley. Now that he knew the hospital, apparating was far easier to achieve his goal and with a _crack_ Remus disappeared and a moment later with another _crack_ appeared again in Arabella Figg's back garden, safely sheltered from view by the huge rhododendrons. Without bothering to knock, he flung the back door open and stormed into the living room, making Arabella jump from the sofa in surprise.

"Remus! What in Merlin's name are you doing here? Is it about Harry?"

But instead of answering, Remus impatiently waved at her and knelt down in front of the fireplace where a small fire was already burning, waiting to be used. Obviously, Arabella had waited for news. Only logical, once Remus thought about it. After all Arabella was the one set to guard over Harry during the holidays. Remus threw a pinch of floo call powder in the flames and called up No. 12, Grimmauld Place. It took a moment until Remus found himself face to face with a once again grinning Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Remus, you were fast. So what's the news?"

Only then did Remus realize how breathless he actually felt, just as if he had run a race. He forced his breathing down for a moment and answered.

"Kingsley, call up Severus. I don't know where he is, but try Hogwarts and if he's not there, find Albus and ask him. Tell him to dress up as a muggle and come to Little Whinging Hospital immediately."

Kingsley's handsome face darkened as the possible meaning of this sunk in.

"What happened?"  
"From what it looks like, Harry tried to poison himself and I'm not sure if the muggle doctors will find out what he did. Tell Severus that he most probably only had his standard potions kit with him, but that's no guarantee. He needs to find out what Harry took and what the antidote for that is."

Kingsley nodded once, then scrambled up from the floor again.

"All right, I'll call him immediately. Anything else?"  
"I'll send Arabella to collect whatever is left of what Harry brewed up and bring it to the hospital. I'll wait for him in the reception area there."

"Good. I'll find him and tell him immediately."  
The connection broke and Remus sank back on his heels, only now becoming aware of Arabella's presence in the room.

"Sorry to come banging in here like that, I just don't know how serious it is for Harry." He got to his feet again. "You heard it all?"

Arabella nodded.

"Yes, and I'll go over to the Dursley's immediately and see what I can find there. Are they home?"

Remus shook his head.

"No, I told them to wait until I come back and they have cleared with the hospital that I'm allowed to visit Harry. They won't be back for the next thirty minutes, I'd guess."

Again, Arabella nodded and went to fetch her purse.

"I'll bring whatever I find to the hospital."  
"Thank you. Just tell the nurse to call me out."

They looked at each other for a moment, then both moved towards their respective doors they would use and while Arabella went over towards Privet Drive, Remus apparated back to the hospital. When he came back into the reception area, the Dursleys were indeed still sitting in their chairs, minus the forms Petunia had filled out earlier. They looked up when Remus came towards them but didn't say anything.

"Have you spoken to Harry's doctor?"

Petunia drew her mouth into an even tighter line, but didn't answer. After a couple of moments, Vernon decided that ignoring Remus might not be the best of choices. Grumpily, he mumbled a response.

"Haven't seen any doctor yet."

Remus nodded and tiredly leaned his back against one of the walls. He didn't know whether to take it as a good sign or not that those muggle doctors took quite so long in checking Harry through. It could mean that they were exceptionally thorough, but it could also mean that they simply couldn't find out what was wrong with Harry. Remus didn't know much about muggle medicine, but so far he had always guessed that in case of poisoning they pumped out the stomach contents and administered an antidote of some sorts, that shouldn't take too long, should it?

With quite a start Remus realized that he had started to drum his fingers impatiently against the back-lean of a chair that was standing next to him and that the nurse behind the counter was already throwing him impatient looks. Remus forced himself to smile apologetically at her, then crossed his hands over his chest and bit his lip.

The minutes passed, five, ten, twenty minutes. Remus was getting more and more impatient.

Why in Merlin's name was it Severus taking so long to come? If he had been at Hogwarts, he should be here by now, the journey could not possibly take that long. As if on cue, the double glass doors swung open a moment later and the nurse's attention was quickly diverted from Remus' impatient behaviour to the sour looking man who came walking into the waiting area in long strides.

Despite the serious situation, Remus had to stifle a laugh at the fearful gazes the Potions master drew onto himself, and at the same time was thankful that Kingsley seemed to have brought the message of wearing muggle clothing across. Though Severus didn't seem too comfortable wearing black muggle trousers and shirt, at least he didn't also stand out through his clothing. He had tied his hair back at the nape of his neck, something Remus knew he usually only did when he was working on extremely complicated potions where any errand hair might ruin the works of weeks or months. This definitely was an appearance the Hogwarts students were not supposed to ever see, but Remus got the sinking feeling that if Severus had been disturbed during something he deemed important or complicated, then his mood would not be the very best.

Without another word, Snape came to a halt in front of Remus, completely ignoring Harry's gaping muggle relatives as he threw his most deadly glare at his former classmate.

"What, pray, might be important enough to have Shacklebolt call me out here in the middle of some vital and extremely complicated work? It's not as if I was just idly sitting around in the castle for the entire summer holidays, you know?"

Remus sighed and did a mental eye roll. Trust Kingsley to leave the uncomfortable explanations to him.

"He didn't tell you why you're here?"  
"He just stammered something about Potter and his fifth year potions kit and an antidote. I'm a Potions- and not a Quizmaster, so I didn't spend my time guessing what he wants. Would _you_ care to enlighten me?"

Remus sighed and tried to think of a good way to break the news of the past hours to the sour Potions master.

"The short version is that I was sent to have a look at Harry after it became obvious that he had left the house at Privet Drive. He was tracked here in the hospital, and when I arrived Harry's uncle told me that Harry obviously tried to poison himself. I'm pretty sure he only had his standard potions equipment at home, but as I don't know what he brewed up and if the muggles find out about it during their check up, I thought it best to call you to have a look at him."

If those words had any effect on Snape then he didn't let it show. A slight sneer showed on his face however when he spoke again.

"A poison. And that though I considered him always too incompetent to brew _any_ kind of potion."

"Severus, this isn't helping us."

"All right Lupin, then I'd suggest we have a look at Potter."

Remus gestured Petunia and Vernon Dursley to come along with them and together the four went over towards the young nurse at the counter. She looked up expectantly. "Yes?"  
"We would like to see Harry Potter, please."

"Are you relatives of his?"

Remus shook his head and looked at Petunia. Harry's aunt took a moment before she understood it as her clue to speak.

"We are his…_guardians_", she said lowly as if she was afraid anybody else might overhear her admitting it, "and we allow them to visit the boy."

The nurse nodded and rummaged around in her desk for a moment until she found another form and extracted two copies.

"Please read those carefully, fill in the names of the two gentlemen and sign them, I'll go and talk to Mr. Potter's doctor", the nurse said to Petunia as she handed over the two sheets of paper. Without looking at them another time Petunia and Vernon scribbled their signatures at the line on the bottom and pushed them over to Remus.

"Can we go now?"

Remus nodded. "I think so, yes. We know where you live after all, in case we need something else from you."

Vernon grunted disapprovingly and he and Petunia quickly vanished out of the doors.

Remus signed his name on top of one of the forms and had to suppress a laugh as he saw Snape struggling with his pen. He took it out of the sour Potions masters hand, pressed out the tip and handed it back.

"Why can't they use quill and ink like normal people?"

Remus only shook his head and bit back a comment about muggle-phobias.

"Just let us get this done and over with, I want to know what's wrong with Harry."

"Much unlike his relatives, I have to say."

"What did you expect Severus? Teary moments in the hospital waiting room? Whatever you had imagined Harry's home life to look like, that's not it."

"Actually I didn't imagine anything about Potter's home life. I'm not particularly interested in those details of…"

Whatever Snape had wanted to say was interrupted by the return of the nurse. A tall elderly man was accompanying her and the two stopped in front of Remus and Snape.

"You are here for Harry Potter?"

"Yes, can we see him?"

The nurse picked up the forms the Dursleys had signed and the doctor gestured Snape and Remus to follow him, talking while he went.

"Mr. Dursley told us that Mr. Potter had mixed up and drank something poisonous. We pumped out his stomach, but couldn't find out until now just what exactly he has taken."

"What were his symptoms?"  
The doctor looked a bit surprised at Snape, but after a moment answered.

"His pulse-rate was – and still is – extremely low, he was barely breathing when he was brought here and during our first examination the breathing set out completely once. We have him stabilized now, though he's still unconscious. We scanned his blood and urine for the usual toxins but came up negative, now we're still waiting for the results of the detailed blood-screening."

They reached a door and the doctor came to a halt.

"This is his room. Don't worry about the machines, we still have him on a couple of monitors to control his heart-rate and breathing, just so we know immediately in case something changes. If you have any more questions, call a nurse or me. I'll be back as soon as we get the results of the blood-screening."

"Thank you."

Remus smiled gratefully at the man and turned into Harry's room. As the doctor had said there were a couple of monitors standing around Harry's bed, and one of the devices was beeping softly in time with Harry's heartbeats. The doctor had been right, Harry's heart was beating extremely slow.

Harry was looking pale as a ghost in the bed, there were drips connected to the veins in his arms and a small tube was obviously supporting his air supply through his nose.

Remus immediately stepped beside the bed and took Harry's hand into his own while Snape took the time to cast a privacy spell over the room. Then he cleaned up the bedside table and unpacked some small items from the pockets of his trousers. Only when he took the shrinking charm off of them did Remus realize that those were the items Snape would need to define the degree of Harry's poisoning. There were also ingredients to create antidotes and Remus allowed himself to relax a bit more. Snape might not be particularly pleased to help Harry, but he had come to his help and would do whatever was necessary. And there was hardly anybody beside Snape whom Remus would entrust with Harry's wellbeing now. With anything that concerned potions and poisons, Harry was in the best of hands now.

The first thing Snape did was step beside the bed and pulled up Harry's eye-lids. He frowned a bit.

"What's wrong?"

"His pupils are extremely dilated, I didn't expect that."

"And what could that mean?"

Snape sneered.

"As soon as I find out, _you_ will of course be the first to know."

Remus bit back a remark at that, and even though he had not expected it, Snape continued talking after a short moment.

"There are quite a number of poisons a fifth year could brew up with his potions supplies, and most of them are in one of their school books. Normally, we trust that students don't brew them up just like that during their spare time, and anyway, we can't confiscate their books or supplies over the holidays. But dilated pupils and cold, clammy skin don't really fit to any of the potions that are in the book I let my students use. It would help to have a sample of what he has taken."

Remus let go of Harry's hand and turned towards the door.

"I'll have a look at the waiting room, maybe Arabella is here already."

Snape nodded without looking up and so Remus left the room and went back into the waiting area. Indeed Arabella was just coming through the doors, looking around in search of him. He went over towards her.

"Arabella?"  
"Ah Remus, there you are. Sorry that I took so long, I nearly collided with those blasted relatives of Harry on my way out, and I didn't think it would be wise for them to find me searching around in their house. It seems that Harry knocked over his cauldron after he drank the potion, or maybe that blasted uncle of his did it, I don't know. It took me some time to get the remains of the potion out of the bottom of the cauldron. It's not much, but it was all that was left without stripping the carpet out of the room. I hope it is enough."

She pulled out a small vial from her robes and handed it over to Remus.

"Thank you, Arabella. I'd best get it back to Severus quickly."

"Do that, good luck. Let me know if Harry is doing any better."

"I will. Good bye, Arabella."  
"Good bye, Remus."

Hiding the vial in the pocket of his jeans – it would not be helpful if the nurses saw it and got suspicious as to what he was giving Harry – Remus hurried back along the corridor.

With a slight smile he realized that Snape had been pretty thorough in casting the Privacy Charm. If he had not been all that focussed on getting back to Harry's room he'd most probably have overlooked it and walked on. That should indeed save them from curious nurses or doctors while Snape was examining Harry.

Remus entered the room again and closed the door firmly behind himself. Snape didn't even turn or look up, obviously very well aware of the strength of his Privacy Charm.  
"Figg found something?"

"Yes." Remus placed the vial on the bedside table next to Snape's equipment, then he sat back down onto the chair next to Harry's bed and picked up the teenager's cold and clammy hand again.

Snape reached for the vial, uncorked it and smelled its contents. Remus thought to detect a surprised frown on his face, but it was gone so quickly that he could not be sure it had truly been there. And even if it had been there, Remus knew better than to ask Snape something while he was working. So for the next couple of minutes he watched as his former classmate did his best to analyze the contents of the small vial Arabella had brought from Privet Drive. Not once did Snape say something or betray what he was thinking in any other way, save that one frown as he had initially smelled the potion. After maybe ten minutes he began leafing through the ingredients he had brought, lightened a small fire and started to brew a potion.

Remus had never been that much of a potion brewer himself, he had seen the subject more as a nuisance than anything else in school, but he watched attentively and tried to find out what Snape was doing there. He recognized that Snape was handling a bezoar, but what other ingredients he put into the potion he could not find out. His limited potions knowledge was enough to supply him with the information that bezoars were a most effective ingredient for antidotes of most sorts. He trusted Snape enough not to question what the other man was doing. Whatever Harry had brewed up, it simply could not be too complicated for Snape to counter, Remus trusted that his former classmate would find the antidote soon.

So when Snape was finished with brewing the potion Remus wordlessly helped him raising Harry into a sitting position and watched as the Potions master gave Harry the antidote to drink. Only when Harry was lying on the mattress again and Snape was packing up his ingredients did Remus break the silence.

"What was it, Severus?"

Not turning away from where he was cleaning up his ingredients, Snape shrugged.

"Trust Potter to brew up something like that." Before Remus could ask what he meant, Snape turned and began shrinking his packs.

"What he brewed up was definitely poisonous and I doubt that his body would have handled it well without an antidote, but it was not any potion I know. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he had attempted something completely else and botched it. Thoroughly, as I would expect considering his complete inability at potions brewing. If Albus insists on it, I'll have a closer look at the matter once I'm back at Hogwarts, but right now I've got other things to do."

"Harry will be all right?"

"That's what an _antidote_ is supposed to do, Lupin. It makes sure somebody doesn't die from a poison. That I don't know the potion doesn't mean I can't do anything against its effects. But to soothe your troubled mind, Potter will most probably wake up in a couple of hours, and I don't think that he'll have to stay here for longer than another day or two."

Remus raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"I'm only worried about Harry, Severus. I didn't doubt your abilities."

Snape gruffly grunted something and packed the shrunk ingredients into his pocket and turned towards the door.

"I'll take my leave now. If anything should occur, you know where to find me. Though I would appreciate it not to be called unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Thank you, Severus."

Without another word, Snape nodded again and then left the room, leaving nothing to indicate that any kind of potion-brewing had taken place here only minutes ago. With a sigh, Remus took down the privacy spell and sat down next to Harry's bed. As he took the teenager's hand into his own again he noticed with quite some relief that Harry's skin was not as clammy and cold anymore as it had been earlier, and the heartbeats which were still monitored by the muggle machines were also coming faster and more regular.

But he already knew that he'd not be truly relaxed until Harry had woken up again. And then he would give the teenager a piece of his mind about what he had tried to do. But that could take some more time, so he settled for the wait.


	3. Bedside Tales

**Chapter 03 – Bedside Tales**

Remus was a patient man under nearly any kind of circumstances, but sitting next to the bed of the unresponsive teenage-son of his long-deceased friend was eating away his nerves quickly. About an hour after Snape had left, Harry's doctor had come into the room and after a quite surprised examination had explained to Remus that Harry's condition had stabilized remarkably. Another hour later, a nurse had taken Harry off of most of the control-devices and the doctor had taken of the artificial air-supply. The only thing that remained were the IV-drips in Harry's left arm. The doctor had explained that they would be taken out as soon as the liquids had run through, but Remus had hardly listened. He knew that they were not really needed, that whatever antidote Snape had administered would be enough to cure Harry, but he also knew that Snape would have taken off the IV-drips if he had suspected them to counteract the antidote. So he had merely nodded as the doctor explained Harry's medications to him, but had not listened.

His thoughts had been focussed solely on Harry, his worry about him rising by the minute. Truly, he might be out of the woods physically, but Remus knew that this wasn't everything. If Harry was depressed, worried, or sad enough to try and commit suicide, he didn't even want to think about what was going on in Harry's head. And it hurt Remus to see Harry like that. He had never before consciously contemplated what Harry meant to him, not after his parents had died and he had lost contact to the child –on Albus Dumbledore's insistence, amongst other reasons. When James and Lily had still been alive, Remus had been close to Harry, just like Sirius had been. He had babysat him, had worried when he had been sick and had endured Lily's lecture when he and Sirius had taken the child flying for the first time – on Sirius' motorbike while James and Lily had been away for the afternoon. And already at the age of seven months Harry had loved flying, if his cooing and giggling had been any indication, so neither he nor Sirius had understood the lecture they had received by Harry's parents after they had landed again. Even though he would not openly admit it, one of the main reasons why Remus had been so excited about Dumbledore's offer to take up the teaching position at Hogwarts had been to see Harry again. Even after nearly twelve years of not seeing the child, Remus had realized then that he still wanted to see how he was doing, what kind of person he had become. But not until this afternoon when he had seen the pale and ever-too-thin frame lying on the hospital bed, had Remus realized how much he cared for Harry. He didn't want to see the teenager come to any harm, and not because Harry was the hope of the wizarding world, which was the reason why half the wizarding world thought they cared about Harry. It was a more personal care, an emotional involvement Remus had not admitted to himself before.

He knew that this was a one-sided thing, that Harry did not trust easily in adults anyway, and that he could never hold the same position that Sirius had held for Harry, but he'd be damned before he let anything else happen to that boy. Remus cared too deeply for Harry to let something like that happen. Far too deeply.

Hours had passed in such contemplations, it was already getting dark outside, and in the small hospital room Remus watched as Harry stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times but had quite obviously still problems at seeing properly. Reminding himself quickly of the cause of those problems, Remus reached for Harry's glasses on the bedside table and wordlessly pressed them into Harry's hand. Harry put the glasses on with slightly shaking hands and blinked again a couple of times. His eyes darted around the room unfocusedly for a moment, taking in the fact that he was obviously in a hospital, then they finally settled on Remus. Harry's eyes widened slightly in recognition, then narrowed in confusion as he obviously tried to find out where he was and what had happened.

Remus could have cried in relief, but he forced himself to smile down at the teenager.

"Hello Harry."

Harry's lips moved, but the only sound coming out was a raspy cough.

"Do you want some water?"

Harry nodded and Remus got up to fill a glass from the jug on Harry's bedside table. Harry struggled to get up, and Remus handed over the water to Harry. Harry greedily drank the water and sighed contently as Remus put the glass away. Harry sank down on the mattress again.

"Thank you."

Remus only nodded and wordlessly looked at Harry for a long moment, trying to sort through the turmoil of emotions that was raging inside of him. Harry shyly glanced at Remus.

"Professor?" It was obvious that the thing that confused Harry most was finding himself in a hospital with his former teacher sitting up with him. As Remus didn't answer at first, as he simply didn't know how to answer, Harry cast his eyes down again and didn't dare to look up into Remus' eyes anymore.

Eventually, Remus put a hand under his chin and forced the teenager to look into this eyes.

"If you ever even so much as think about doing something this stupid again, ever, be sure that I won't hesitate to give you the lecture of your life for that. You've had me worried there."

Harry frowned, obviously confused.

"What?"

"What '_what_'?"

"To be honest, Professor, I don't really know what you're talking about. Why am I in hospital? This is a hospital, isn't it?"

"Yes it is. But I don't really get what you're asking me."

Harry frowned again and thought a bit.

"What is wrong with me? And where is 'here'? It doesn't look very much like Hogwarts or St. Mungo's."

Remus was completely and utterly confused.

"We're in a muggle hospital in Little Whinging. Your relatives brought you here because they found you unconscious in your room. You had brewed some kind of potion – a poison – and we thought that…that you had tried to poison yourself."

Harry shook his head vehemently, disbelief clearly etched no his face.

"Poison?" Harry looked positively shocked as realization set in. "You thought I tried to kill myself?"

Remus nodded gravely. "That was what we thought, yes."

"But…Professor, I wasn't. Honestly."

"Then what were you trying to do? You've never been that much of a potions brewer as far as I know, it doesn't sound like you to start brewing up potions during your holiday."   
Harry nervously bit his lip and stared down into his lap.

"Harry?"

No matter if Harry would normally entrust him with it or not, Remus needed to know. It was a question of Harry's security, they could not have him in the hospital on a regular basis, and it would be even worse if the next time something like this happened he would not be found in time. Remus needed to know what had caused Harry to brew up a poison, even if accidentally. He needed to know so that he could prevent it from happening ever again. Remus gently put his hand onto the teenagers shoulder and was surprised to see tears in Harry's eyes. One was making its way down Harry's cheek and Remus handed him a tissue from the pocket of his robe. Harry took it with slightly shaking fingers and wiped away the offending tear-track, still not meeting his former teacher's eyes.

"I was…I have been trying to make a sleeping potion."

That was an answer Remus definitely had not expected, not at all.   
"Why? Did you have problems sleeping?"

Harry shook his head and wiped away another tear. He had started shaking a bit and so Remus got up and pulled up his blankets again. As he sat down again he did not take the chair, but sat down on the side of the mattress so that he was facing Harry, one hand resting lightly on Harry's shoulder.

"No problems sleeping. I was…having dreams. And I wanted them to stop."

Remus' chin dropped as the implication of that statement sunk in, and it took him a moment to find his voice again.

"You tried to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion?"

Harry nodded, still not looking up.

"Harry, that potion is ridiculously advanced! Why didn't you owl to the Weasleys, to Hermione or me, to _anybody_ about it? You nearly killed yourself because something was wrong with the potion! The doctor said that you stopped breathing! If your relatives had not brought you here, you could be dead now!"

"I thought…I didn't want anybody to worry about me. And the potion was in our book, so I thought I could brew it. I know I suck at Potions, but I thought that without Snape breathing down my neck I could do it."

Remus shook his head. "Oh Harry, when will you finally learn that you don't have to make out everything on your own?"

"I'm sorry."   
"It's all right. I'm just glad that nothing happened. Severus said you'd be out of the woods in a day or so, and then we'll see about doing something against the nightmares."

At that moment, something visibly clicked in Harry's head as his mental gears shifted according to the information in Remus' last sentence.   
"Snape was here?"

Harry couldn't hide the astonishment in his voice at those words, but Remus only nodded.

"Of course. When I heard that you had taken some sort of potion, I called him to examine you. After all we could not be sure that muggle doctors would find a poison like that during their examination. He was a bit startled about the sort of poison he found you had taken, but in the end he gave you an antidote and we decided to clear that mystery up when you were well on your feet again."

"I guess I have to thank him then."

Remus nodded.

"Yes, I think you should do that, whether you like it or not. But no need to worry about that now. Just see to it that you're getting better. Do you need anything? Are you hungry?"

Harry shook his head. "No, thank you."

"Do you want to sleep some more? It's evening already and nearly dark. I'll go to headquarters and let the others know that you're all right, they've all been a bit edgy during the past day."

He got up from the bed but noticed that Harry was suddenly looking wide-eyed and even a bit scared.

"Harry? What is it? Is something wrong, do you need something?"   
Harry just shook his head, but his expression didn't really change. Remus stepped beside his bed again.

"Harry, what is wrong?"   
He tried to sound as warm and gentle as possible, and truly Harry seemed to relax a bit.

"I…could you…"

"What Harry?"   
"Could you stay a bit? I mean, I know that you surely have something else to do, but would you mind…"

Remus shook his head and sat down again, smiling at Harry.

"Of course I can stay with you." He placed a hand on Harry's arm and squeezed gently. "Care to talk about those nightmares?"   
Harry shook his head. "No, not really. Could you maybe just tell me something? Anything would be all right, actually."

Remus smiled. "Sure."

But he quickly realized that it wasn't all that easy as he had thought. Any other time he'd have gladly told Harry a story from his time at school with Harry's father and Sirius, but now the mere thought about Sirius made a lump form in his throat. He couldn't talk about Sirius just yet. Not anytime soon.

Harry seemed to sense what kind of struggle Remus was going through, because he quickly averted his eyes.

"Sorry, you don't need to."

Remus smiled down at him which was a bit hard as he was fighting down the tears at the same time.

"It's all right, Harry."

"No, it's not all right. And it'll never be."

Remus couldn't find anything to say after that. There was a stretch of silence between them before Harry's low voice spoke again.

"You miss him, don't you?"

Remus nodded and gripped his hair tightly with his hands as if trying to convince himself through the pain that he was still alive.

"Yes", he finally breathed out, "I miss him. I miss him horribly, so much that it hurts."

Without really knowing why, Remus continued. It actually surprised him that he spoke to Harry about those things, he was normally not the kind of person to openly talk about what was going on inside of him, not to anybody. But the words just tumbled out of his mouth and only as he spoke them did he realize how much he needed to talk about it.

"It was like that when your parents – and as I thought Peter – died. Just a dull aching feeling in me, whatever I do and whatever I think about. But back then at least I could still try to hate Sirius for it. And now I had him back, he was back and things were starting to be all right again and then he had to fall through that blasted archway. Now I just feel so empty."

A tear rolled down Remus' cheek and he quickly wiped it away before Harry could see it. When he looked up from the floor again he found that the teenager was not watching him, but staring at the far off wall with an opaque expression on his face.

"I dream about it", Harry finally said. "That's what I wanted the potion for. It was already hard enough last year, with Cedric's death and the nightmares I had afterwards. But now I see him fall through that veil every night. And every single night it's as if I try to get to him before he falls through it, but I'm always a step too late. Then I see that astonished and shocked look in his eyes as he vanishes and I wake up. I can't take that anymore, I just can't."

Harry curled up under his blanket and buried his face in his pillow, and all Remus could do was put a hand on his back and rub a couple of small comforting circles on it. He was surprised at how openly Harry talked about what was going through his mind. It had to be bothering him really much if he finally decided to talk about it and seek help, something that did not help to alleviate Remus' worries.

"I never really thought he could die. I didn't think about it, it just wasn't a possibility, was it?"

Harry was surely convinced that Remus would agree with that, he didn't know that he had struck a painful chord with his words. Remus bit his lip. "For me it was."

Harry paused for a moment before he asked. "Why?"   
"Because I've learned that lesson during the first war. Learned it the hard way."

Harry didn't ask, but Remus knew he wanted to know more about this. And maybe talking about it instead of merely brooding over it would help.

"There were far too many occasions which turned out to be too dangerous or too daring afterwards. There were too many times when one of us jumped out of death's way in the last moment, Sirius once even a bit after that last moment had already passed."

Harry turned around and looked at Remus curiously. "What happened?"   
"He and I were on Order business in London but we were given away – today I'm convinced this was also Peter's doing. We were ambushed and cornered by about twenty Death Eaters and all our ways out were blocked. We managed to fight most of them down, but Sirius got stabbed by one of the Death Eaters. The wound was pretty deep and the dagger had cut an artery. Sirius was losing too much blood, and for minutes I just knelt next to him with my hands pressed on his wound until help arrived and brought us to St. Mungo's. It was such a close call, I don't even want to think about it. It took six days until he finally woke up again, six horrible days of nerve-wracking waiting, sitting next to his bed in the hospital, praying that he would make it. That was the first time I really became aware of the fact that none of us was immortal. He still has that scar, it strangely didn't vanish no matter how much the doctors tried to erase it." Remus' voice caught for a moment. "That is, he still _had_ the scar."

Tears were threatening to fall again and while Remus tried to fight them down silence once more settled over the room. Harry just looked at Remus, but whatever was going on in his mind was too well hidden for Remus to detect. Remus tried to smile at him but failed miserably.

"I just thought that after twelve years in Azkaban, he'd get some rest. I thought that if he had survived _that_, he'd survive anything. I didn't think it would happen…so fast, so senseless. I think I was trying to push away the thought that I might lose him again."   
Harry looked out of the window.

"And if I hadn't been so stupid he would still be alive today. If I had taken Occlumency more seriously, and if I hadn't fallen for Voldemort's trap that night then it would not have happened. Sirius wouldn't have been in the Death Chamber at all if it had not been for me."

Remus saw how Harry averted his eyes, but he wordlessly looked at the teenager until Harry raised his eyes again and met his gaze. He knew what Harry was thinking, he had thought the very same thoughts more than once during the past weeks.

"Yes, if you had studied Occlumency a bit harder you might not have fallen for that trap. And if you had not been that rash, then maybe none of it would have happened.

Don't you think I have had the same thoughts since Sirius died? I've been brooding over it for hours, but though you made mistakes you're not the only one.

Sirius is…Sirius _was_ a grown man, he knew perfectly well what he was doing. He was the one who lowered his defences while duelling Bellatrix. He should have known better than doing that. It was his decision to leave Grimmauld Place that night, and _his_ decision alone.

Maybe he would not have done it if he hadn't been caged there for the past year, who knows? If Albus had allowed him to act more freely, if I had had the courage to speak up against locking him up in headquarters without any task to do at all, things might have ended differently. If anyone did, I knew how much Sirius hated being unable to do something.

We could have told you more about what we knew of your connection to Voldemort, Severus could have given you more reassurance when you told him that Sirius was in trouble, I should have known that Kreacher was a treacherous bastard, Molly maybe should have been less territorial when you were concerned…Harry, so many of us have made mistakes over the past years. And I don't think you can place the blame on one of us alone. Merlin knows I've tried it. I first blamed myself, then I blamed you, then I blamed Albus, I think I blamed each and every single person I know, but it just doesn't work. In the end, all I end up with is the conclusion that either none of us or all of us are to blame. Basically, it doesn't really matter which is the case because it has happened and we all have to learn how to live with it.

Sirius is dead Harry, and it hurts. But no matter who you or I or whoever else blames for it, in the end we'll simply have to live with it. Because unfortunately we can't change it. Merlin knows I'd give my life for his if I could, but we simply can't change it."

Remus slowly shook his head and wiped some strands of hair out of his face. "How about I organize something to eat for you and quickly apparate over to Arabella's to use her fireplace? I won't be gone long and I'm sure the doctor wants to have another look at you in the meantime. Is that all right with you?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Sure. Sorry if I'm causing too much trouble for everybody."

Remus got up from his chair and smiled at Harry, this time a bit more convincing than earlier.

"No need to apologize. Just see that you're getting better, get some rest and then we'll se what we can do about maybe getting you out of here as soon as possible."

Harry nodded and Remus left the room. As he watched his former teacher walk away Harry for the first time since waking up realized that it surely was a great inconvenience for Dumbledore and the Order that he was here now. Obviously, somebody needed to guard him in case Voldemort found out that he had left Privet Drive, and surely that was what Remus had meant when he had talked about getting him out of here. Harry's heart sagged a bit. For one short moment he had thought that maybe Remus had meant taking him out of Privet Drive completely, maybe send him to the Weasleys or back to Grimmauld Place. But then again Harry didn't really know whether he wanted to return there, to the place where he had last seen his godfather alive and where surely everything reminded him of Sirius.

At that moment the door to Harry's room opened and a nurse came into the room with a tray in her hands which she deposited on the bedside table and Harry stopped brooding about that question. Maybe when Remus came back later he'd ask him. Maybe.


	4. Vigil

**Chapter 04 – Vigil**

Security was indeed a problem, Harry had been right with that thought. At Privet Drive, he was protected by countless wards and spells which he wasn't aware of, not to mention the magical protection that the proximity of his blood-relatives provided him with. But that protection did not stretch out to Little Whinging Hospital, and Remus hurried to Arabella's place because he didn't want Harry to be left without a wizard around for too long. Chances were good that Voldemort and the Death Eaters had not yet gathered information that Harry had left Privet Drive, but one could never be too careful.

There was hardly anything Remus could do about that now, he placed some smaller monitoring charms around Harry's room that would tell him if magic was used there, but other than that he could only hurry to get back to the hospital as fast as possible. Hopefully, Kingsley had already reached Albus Dumbledore and told him about the events of the day, Remus would be far more relaxed if he knew that his former headmaster would take care of Harry's protection.

This time Arabella was not all that surprised when Remus opened up her back door and came into the living room, even though he was hurried this time as well.

"How is Harry?"

Remus knelt down next to the fireplace, but halted his movements to place a floo-call to answer her question.

"Better. He woke up about an hour ago. He's still a little worse for wear, but he'll be all right in no time."

Arabella seemingly hesitated before she asked her next question.

"Did he tell you why he did it?"

The big question, Remus could only imagine what had been going on in the minds of the Order members involved during the past hours.

"He was pretty shocked when I asked him that. From what he told me, he tried to brew up a sleeping potion and didn't realize that he royally botched it."

Remus could see that Arabella wanted to ask more, but the look in his eyes made her stop.

"Did Albus call through? I'm a bit worried about Harry's protection in the hospital, I'd rather get back there as soon as possible."

Arabella shook her head. "No, but Kingsley called up shortly after you left, he said that it would take a bit more time until he could reach Albus. Shall I call up headquarters and tell them that Harry is awake?" Seeing the look on Remus' face, she laughed. "I can see that you want to get back to the hospital as fast as possible. And it's surely safer for him if you were there instead of me, being the squib that I am."

Remus smiled gratefully and got up from his crouch.

"It would be great if you could do that. Tell them that Harry is well, and ask them to find Albus and send him over quickly. At the moment I only have some small monitoring charms on his hospital room, I'd be more relieved to know that another wizard except from me was around."

"Sure Remus."

With a smile Remus bent over towards her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Bella."

Arabella blushed and playfully swatted Remus' head. "You should know better than to waste your charms on an old lady like me, young man. No off you go."

With another smile Remus headed out of the backdoor and apparated back to the hospital.

Albus Dumbledore was not having one of his better days. Normally, the Hogwarts headmaster was able to see the positive side of nearly anything, and even with Voldemort back in power and the wizarding world in a confused uproar he had not given up at least the attempt to keep that attitude. But even Albus Dumbledore reached his limits from time to time, and today of all days this had happened once more. Since the early morning hours he was sitting in an office at the Ministry of Magic, trying to explain to the completely helpless and overtaxed – not to mention stubborn, that was extremely important – Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge what would be the best course of action to take. Now dusk was already settling outside and Dumbledore could imagine quite a number of places he'd rather be in than here. Unfortunately, though Fudge had finally relented and openly admitted Voldemort's return, he refused to act according to everything Dumbledore said, and for the past two hours they had talked each other in a dead-lock of opinions.

So he was even a bit glad when suddenly a knock on the door sounded and a brunette thirty-something secretary poked her head into the room.

"Minister Fudge, Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but there is a Mr. Shacklebolt who says he needs to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

"I have explicitly ordered not to be disturbed, Cynthia!"

The secretary blushed and cowered a little from where she was standing in the doorway.

"I know, Sir, but this Mr. Shacklebolt has been trying to reach Professor Dumbledore for the past hours, and I have to say that he is getting a bit unnerved. He said to tell the Professor that it is urgent and concerns Harry Potter."

Before Fudge could say anything more, Dumbledore rose from his seat. Not only was he glad for an excuse to end the unfruitful meeting with the Minister, but also his worry was rising from the small pieces of information the secretary had delivered. If Kingsley tried to reach him, constantly, saying that it was urgent, then it _was_ urgent.

"Cornelius, you'll surely not have any contradictions against postponing this meeting until tomorrow afternoon. I have other duties to attend to right now."

Barely waiting for the stunned Minister to nod his agreement, Dumbledore brushed past the secretary and out of the meeting room. In the corridor, Kingsley Shacklebolt rushed towards him with a relieved expression on his face.  
"Albus, finally! I already thought I'd have to stun my way through to you."

He started towards the elevator that would bring them to the public fireplaces in the atrium, and Dumbledore fell into step beside him.  
"What is it, Kingsley? The secretary said it was about Harry? Has something happened?"

As he didn't want to explain it while walking, or worse while queuing up in front of the elevator or fireplaces, Kingsley looked left and right to make sure they were alone in the corridor – one could never be too careful – and stopped near a window.

"Yes. This morning, Arabella called up headquarters, quite panicked I have to say. She said that some of the alarms had gone off as Potter had left the wards around the house."

Dumbledore frowned, but didn't interrupt. It was not forbidden for Harry to leave those wards, yet if he did there was always an Order member to be in sight of him, even if Harry did not know about it. They simply could not afford an attack on him right now. Kingsley continued.

"She immediately used the tracking-device you had given her and then called us up to tell us that Potter was in Little Whinging Hospital. Alastor sent Remus there to find out what was wrong."

Inwardly, Dumbledore was surprised to hear that Remus had accepted that task, but somewhere beyond all this rising worry for Harry he was a bit glad that Remus had at least been temporarily torn out of his lethargy. He had begun to worry extremely about his former pupil. Kingsley continued to talk.

"It seemed at first as if Potter had tried to poison himself, Remus called back and asked for Snape to be sent to the Hospital. That was when I started to try and reach you, but those blasted secretaries here did not even tell me which corridor or floor you were on, otherwise I'd have tried to call you out earlier. Snape reported that he had given Potter an antidote, and an hour ago Arabella called up again with news from Remus. He's back at the hospital with Potter, and as it seems that he will have to stay there for the night he asked for somebody to take care of the protection around the hospital."

"What do you mean, it seemed _as if_ Harry tried to poison himself at first?"  
Kingsley shrugged. "Potter obviously told Remus that it wasn't so, that he tried to brew up a sleeping potion and failed, at least that's what Arabella said."

"Who is with Harry at the moment?"

"Remus returned, and as he asked for somebody else to come there in case the wrong people got to know, I sent Arthur and Dung over. Dung is pretending to be a homeless drunk waiting for the social service to pick him up, he's guarding the entrance hall. Arthur dressed up as a electrician, and he's watching the back entrance. He got really excited about that task, said something about a collection of slugs…no wait, it was something else…plugs, yes, a collection of plugs, but I didn't really get what he meant by that, to be honest. In addition to that, Remus put up monitoring spells, in case everything else fails, so we'll know immediately and can get there."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Good, that should indeed be enough for now. I'll get there as fast as I can, see what I can do to further ward the place. Maybe we're lucky and Harry can leave tomorrow morning already."

Kingsley gave Dumbledore a court nod and continued walking down the corridor towards the elevator that would take him to the atrium from where he would floo back to do what Dumbledore had told him. The old headmaster remained standing in the corridor for a moment, then he pulled his wand out of his sleeve and hesitated for a moment before he apparated away. Normally it was not allowed to apparate out of the Ministry, but Dumbledore decided that it would be far easier than take up a lengthy floo travel right now. Most probably on his way he would only meet people who would delay him even further. Cornelius would surely not make a fuss out of it if he got to know, and for once Dumbledore relied on his reputation and the respect that most of the Ministry workers – mostly former pupils of his – had for him. He would not be arrested on the spot for a small offence like that.

Dumbledore apparated into the same small side alley across from the hospital which Remus had used a couple of times already this morning. He made a step forward to cross the road, then stopped and with a small mirthful smile pulled out his wand again. His dark blue robes were hardly inconspicuous, he had to admit that. Albus Dumbledore did not feel all that comfortable in muggle clothing, but with a quick flick of his wand he had transformed his clothes into something more suited of the occasion. It were not usual muggle clothes, they still resembled robes more than anything else, but a little obscuring charm took care that nobody would notice anything unusual about his appearance. Then Dumbledore pocketed his wand again and stepped out of the alley.

The first thing he noticed in the hallway was Mundungus Fletcher sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting area. He gave no sign of recognition as Dumbledore entered, but Dumbledore could not suppress a bemused smile as he saw how the nurse behind the counter was throwing worried glances into Dung's direction every other moment. The Order member indeed had the perfect appearance for pretending to be a homeless muggle, he had merely exchanged his always slightly rumpled robes for dirty muggle clothing. Though it was a bit worrisome that he had hardly had to change all that much more of his appearance for this role. Dumbledore approached the nurse and put on a charming smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss. I was informed that Harry Potter has been brought here this morning, can you tell me which room he is in?"

The nurse looked up at him, scrutinizing him for a moment, then she gestured for the corridor.

"Down that way, at the end of the corridor you turn to the right. Mr. Potter's room is the second on the left side, number 105."

"Thank you, Miss."

Dumbledore walked the way the nurse had indicated, but nearly missed room number 105 on his first attempt. He could have sworn that the last room he had passed had been number 103, but then he stood in front of number 107. The old wizard shook his head, turned around and concentrated really hard on finding room number 105. The door was a bit hazy at first, and with a slight smile Dumbledore noticed that Remus must have cast a Privacy Charm on the room Harry was in. He would not have expected any less from his former pupil, he knew very well how much the younger man cared about Harry and his safety. And the fact that his charm had even fooled Dumbledore at first only proved how serious he was taking this.

Dumbledore knocked on the door, waited for a beat and then silently opened it, not wanting to disturb in case Harry was sleeping. He did not immediately see the bed Harry occupied, the first thing his eyes fell onto was Remus standing in front of said bed, his right hand resting on his wand in its holster, ready to draw it any moment. As the younger man saw just who had entered the room, he relaxed and stepped aside.

"Albus, thank you for coming so quickly."

"I would have come earlier had Kingsley been able to reach me. Hello Harry, how are you feeling?"

The old wizard stepped beside the bed, his eyes taking in the machines which had not yet been put away again, but also noticing that Harry's skin had a rather healthy colour, and that he was looking quite awake and attentive.

"Fine, thank you, Sir. Sorry if I'm causing trouble."

"Don't you worry about that now, the main thing is that you're on the mend already. Did the doctors say anything about when you can be released?"

Harry shrugged. "Earlier they told me that they want to keep me for the night and if nothing changes I can probably go home tomorrow morning already."

"That's good news", Dumbledore sighed. "But still we have to place some more wards around here for tonight, just in case. I don't expect anything to happen, but better safe than sorry, just as Remus thought earlier. I'll tell Mundungus to place a slight Concealment Charm on himself, otherwise he's far too conspicuous the way he's sitting in the hall right now. I'll have a talk with Arthur shortly, a couple of other wards around the room, that should be safe enough. Is there anything else you need, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No Professor, I'm all right. Thank you."

Dumbledore smiled and looked at Remus. "Will you stay here tonight?"

Remus immediately nodded, though Harry's astonished face told Dumbledore that he had not voiced that thought before.

"Sure I will. I was only worried that I alone would not be enough in case something happened, that's why I asked you to come over."

"Now the protection should be sufficient, that's true. I'm going to place the wards now and talk to the others. If you need something just let me know, otherwise Remus will see to you getting safely back to your relatives once you're released. Remus, I'll be in touch with you tomorrow afternoon at the latest, I don't know yet how long the Minister is going to keep me occupied. Good night, Harry. See to it that you're getting better, will you?"

Again Harry nodded. "Yes. Good night, Professor."

With a nod of goodbye to Remus Dumbledore left the room and closed the door behind himself. Remus sat back down in his chair next to Harry's bed, noticing that again the teenager was fidgeting uncomfortably with his blanket.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry bit his lip, then he looked up.

"You really don't have to stay here. I'm sure you've got something better to do than spend your night on an uncomfortable chair next to my bed."

Remus smiled. "It's all right, really. That means, if you're not all too uncomfortable with me staying here. And I surely do not plan to spend my night sitting on this chair. After all, I didn't go to Transfiguration classes for seven years without learning something."

"Thank you." It was barely audible, but Remus' sensitive hearing caught it and he smiled at the far too shy teenager. Remus shifted into a comfortable position on his chair and tried to think of what he and Harry had been talking about before Dumbledore had arrived.


	5. Conspiracy

**Chapter 05 – Conspiracy**

Harry had never known how comforting it could be to wake up and realize that he was not alone. Of course at Hogwarts he was sharing a room with four of his friends, but still their presence was something completely different from waking up to find somebody sitting up with him, somebody who had stayed because he cared about him. Because he was worried about him. Truth be told, Harry had had to forcefully bite back the tears upon waking up to find Remus sitting at the small table that stood in his room, smiling up at him as he noticed that Harry was awake, because his first thought had been that Sirius would never be there again. Harry was sure that if Sirius was still alive he would have been the one sitting here in the hospital with him if he had been able to, but Sirius would never get the chance. He had promised Harry's father to be the one to take care of Harry when he was sick, it had been his blasted job to be there for Harry, but he had to fall through that archway and get himself killed, and now he would never be there again.

But as Remus looked up at him, his smile wavering slightly upon seeing the expression on the teenager's face, Harry quickly cast those thoughts aside. Blaming Sirius for daring to die like that was something he had tried without very much success over the past two weeks, it didn't bring Sirius back to him, either. It only made others worry about him even more. Merlin knew he was already enough of a burden for everybody, he would not start bawling his eyes out now to top it all.

"Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling?"

Harry sat up in his bed and shrugged. "All right, thanks. Hungry, if I'm honest."

Remus smiled and closed the newspaper he had been reading. He could very well imagine that Harry was hungry, too vividly did he still remember the strict face of the nurse who had declared in no uncertain terms that no, Harry would not get something to eat at half past eight in the evening, no matter how hungry he was. It had reminded both of the wizards frighteningly of Madam Pomfrey. Truth be told the nurse had probably been angry because she had walked past Harry's room four times before she had noticed the door, something she for the life of her could not explain.

But Remus' Privacy Charm had prevented them from any prying eyes during the night, so Harry could not complain. It would surely have been quite a feast to explain to a suddenly appearing night-shift nurse where the table in the room had gone to, where the second bed had appeared from and why Remus was sleeping in it, a piece of wood which no muggle-nurse would recognize as a wand firmly in his hand even in sleep. So Remus had not taken down the charm until he had gotten up in the morning, then he had showed himself in the entrance hall to check with Dung and Arthur and also to pretend that he had just arrived and wanted to visit Harry again. No need to let the nurses and doctors know that he had spent the entire night in the hospital without permission for it.

"Your breakfast should come any minute now, actually I was already wondering what could be keeping the nurse. I have taken down the charms, so she should have no problems finding the room this time."

"Yeah, it definitely would not happen with Madam Pomfrey that a patient could sleep in longer than until seven in the morning."

Remus laughed. "No, that's true indeed. But it's only half past seven, and I don't think that muggle nurses are any better, I have to tell you. And once you're fed, we'll have a talk with your doctor about when you can be released from here."

Harry nodded, his mood immediately worsening. Getting released from the hospital was nothing he was very keen on if he was honest with himself. From what Dumbledore had said yesterday evening, getting released would mean going back to the Dursleys, and he could only imagine too well what kind of echo would await him there. After all, they had been forced to bring him to the hospital, to openly admit that they had something to do with him. Maybe the neighbours had even seen them drag his unconscious form into the car. That meant they would not be very pleased with him and do their best to make his holidays even more miserable. But Harry simply could not allow himself to believe in the possibility that Professor Lupin would take him out of here, he simply could not.

But if there was one thing Harry still had to learn about Remus Lupin, and that was that he was a very perceptive man. Seven years of being close friends with James 'No, I'm not in love with Lily Evans' Potter and Sirius 'No, I don't have a problem and now bugger off' Black had taught him to read people if they didn't speak out loud what was bothering them. He got up and pulled his chair over to Harry's bed and sat down next to the teenager who was once more not looking at him.

"All right, what's wrong Harry?"

Harry shrugged and looked around the room for a moment before he hesitantly set his eyes on Remus.

"If they release me…I – I will have to go back to the Dursleys, won't I?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, that's right. Why, is something wrong with that?"

Harry only shrugged again. "No, I was just wondering, you know? The Weasleys said that I could spend some time with them, and I thought…well, that maybe now would be as good a time as any. I haven't been able to write to Ron yet, but I just thought it would be a good idea, you know?"

One of the things that had made Remus such an excellent teacher was that he could detect very easily if somebody was lying to him. And Harry was one of the worst liars he had ever seen.

"All right Harry, how about you tell me again why you asked me if you have to go back to the Dursleys? Only this time you tell me the truth."

Harry looked at Remus like a child caught with his hands in the cookie-jar. Remus did his best to look reassuring, but Harry did not answer. Finally, Remus was fed up with the silence.

"Look Harry, I know that the Dursleys are not the world's nicest people, I've met them here yesterday for about twenty minutes, and that has been enough for me again already. But if something is seriously wrong then I need to know what it is, otherwise I can't help you."

Still he only met silence.

"Why don't you want to go back to the Dursleys?"

Harry shrugged another of those teenage-shrugs. "I don't know. I just don't want to."

"You never wrote anything about having problems, so can I assume that there is nothing specifically wrong? Are the Dursleys treating you all right, or is there something else? Are they abusing you, mistreating you in any way?"

Concern had crept into Remus' voice as he contemplated that most probably Harry would not have told anybody if something like this had happened. Merlin, don't let it be anything like this, please not! He started rubbing the back of his right hand as he waited for Harry's answer, hoping that it wasn't as bad as he feared.

But Harry only shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. They don't hit me or anything, it's not like that."

Remus got up from his chair and sat down on the mattress next to Harry, not wanting to let the teenager evade him now that he was so close to finally spilling out what was worrying him.

"What, Harry?", he asked softly.

"I don't know, Professor. They…I don't want to stay there anymore, that's all. They…they just don't care, you know? Before, it didn't really disturb me, I was glad if they left me alone. But now", he took a deep breath and worried his lip with his teeth before he continued, "now I just can't stand this anymore. I need somebody to talk to, I want to be with people who care. Maybe then the nightmares stop. I just don't want to go back there."

Remus' chest clenched painfully as he watched Harry. He should have known that the teenager was not dealing all that well with Sirius' death, he should have known it.

"Why didn't you write to anybody about it?"

"I didn't want to worry anybody. You all have enough to do, but I just thought that maybe if I ask the Weasleys they would allow me to come to the Burrow."

Remus reached out and put his hand against Harry's arm so that the teenager looked up into his eyes.

"You know why it is important that you stay with your relatives? You're safest there, Harry."

"If Voldemort is really as strong as I think he is, then there won't be any safe places left for me to hide from him."

Remus watched Harry for a long moment, saw the dark shadows underneath his eyes, the worried lines on his forehead and the numb and listless expression in his emerald eyes. It had taken Harry a lot to bring himself to telling Remus his worries, that much was obvious. Had there been the slightest chance for him to bear his worries any further, Harry would have continued to bottle everything up. Just like Remus would have done. At that moment, Remus Lupin for the first time decided to do something that went against direct orders from Albus Dumbledore. He squeezed Harry's arm once and got up from the bed.

"All right, you'll eat your breakfast as soon as the nurse comes and then you'll wait for the doctor. If he says you can be released today, we'll think of something. I'll go and have a talk with Dung, he seems about just the right person for this. Wouldn't want Arthur involved in it, though."

The last sentence was mumbled more for himself as Remus had already turned towards the door, but Harry had caught it.  
"Professor?"

Remus turned around where he was standing with the doorknob in his hand already.

"Harry, why don't you finally stop calling me Professor? Call me Remus, all right?"

Harry nodded. " Remus, I can go back to the Dursleys, if I have to. I mean, I don't like the idea very much, but I don't want anybody to get into trouble just because I don't want to be stuck there."

Remus looked at him for a moment, then he grinned mischievously. "I'm a Marauder, Harry. I'm used to being in trouble. I actually kind of missed it over the past years. Besides, I'm just going to have a talk with Dung, whatever happens we won't involve anybody – and that includes you and me – in serious trouble. Promise."

As he closed the door behind himself, he was not all that sure that he had not lied to the teenager. But even if he got into trouble for it, Harry would not necessarily have to know about it. And it would certainly not be really bad trouble. A disapproving look from Dumbledore, some snappy comments from Severus – not that he didn't get those on any given opportunity anyway – but the most important thing was that Harry was taken out of there if he truly could not stand to live there any longer. Yesterday's events should be proof enough of that.

With that somewhat reassuring thought in mind he set out to search Dung. Whenever there was nothing to smuggle, the man was always grateful for something that could distract him. And though he was one of the more…shadowy figures Remus knew, he was also trustworthy. Remus was convinced that he could trust him with something important. Even something as important as Harry.

Dung was still loitering in the entrance hall of the hospital when Remus stepped out of the corridor. The nurse was not paying him any attention which of course had to do with the Obscuring Charm he had placed on himself. Knowing Dung, hardly any muggle would pay him more attention than just a small sideward glance after which they would immediately forget about him again. Many things could be said about Mundungus Fletcher, but carelessness was not one of his vices, at least not when his own safety was concerned. About anything else…well, you got used to him after a while.

Dung got up from his chair when Remus entered the room and gestured for him to follow outside with a nod of his head. Once they had left the hospital and had begun walking around the small path that led to the also quite small back garden through which the patients could take short walks during their recovery, Remus began to speak.

"Dung, I think I need your help."

Dung shrugged and kept on walking. It was nothing unusual that people said that sentence to him, he only wondered that this time he was hearing it from Remus.

"It is a bit complicated, though. And it goes against Albus' orders", Remus continued. That brought a slight frown on Dung's face.

"Doesn't sound like you at all, Remus."

"It's about Harry."

"What about him?"

"I don't think it will be wise to bring him to his muggle relatives again. Actually, I'm convinced that it would do him more harm than caring for his safety justifies."

Dung stopped and started to rummage around in his pockets. After a couple of moments, he produced a small, self-rolled cigarette which he put between his lips and lit with a match. After a couple of deep drags he blew some green smoke rings towards the cloudy sky and finally looked at Remus.

"Then where do you want to take him?"

"Grimmauld Place", Remus only said. Dung didn't show any surprise, he merely squinted his eyes as if deep in thought.

"I guess you want me to organize how to get him there."

"Something like that, yes. Though it should be easier than last summer. Harry knows where it is now, so there is no need to make such a huge fuss with an escort. All we would need was a portkey for two, set for headquarters – which I could organize – and somebody who wipes our trace. Which is where you come into the equation."

Dung only nodded thoughtfully. "I'm good at wiping traces."

"That is why I asked you. I would not dare to bring Harry to headquarters if we left a trail for everyone to follow us. But I don't want you to do it if you're not sure about it. After all we could get into trouble because of it."

Dung looked at him with an expression that clearly told Remus what he thought about getting into trouble – it was never an issue he gave very much thought.

"You think it's really better for the kid?"

"Dung, he tried to brew a Sleeping potion and nearly killed himself, just because he didn't have anybody to turn to with his nightmares. His relatives noticed nothing until it was nearly too late. I think nearly anything would be better than that."

"Then count me in. Just tell me when you're going to set the portkey."

Remus nodded. "Thank you. I'll let you know as soon as Harry's doctor says something."

On his way back to Harry's room Remus let his thoughts wander across his conversation with Dung. He had actually expected nothing else than him saying yes, but still he did not feel all that well with involving somebody else in his plan. If he had not been that convinced that Harry needed to be taken away from his relatives he probably would not have done it, but the past two days had convinced him that whatever the consequences, he could no longer leave Harry in Privet Drive with a clear conscience.

As he was about to enter Harry's room, the door suddenly opened just as Remus was about to reach for the doorknob. The man Remus recognized as the doctor from the day before smiled in recognition and stepped aside so that Remus could enter Harry's room. Much to his surprise, the teenager was already dressed and a tray with the remains of breakfast was standing next to his bed. He had not realized that he had been gone this long.

"And, what did the doctor say?"

Harry grinned and sat down on his bed again.

"That he simply can't explain how my condition improved so quickly since yesterday. He said that he's still waiting for some test results, but that I can leave if they don't show anything either."

"Which they won't, knowing Severus' abilities. When will he get them?"

"In an hour or two, he said."

Remus nodded, thinking quickly for a moment. Dung was still around, so he needed to organize a portkey. But before, he had to make sure that Harry would agree with this plan.

"Harry, I've been thinking about what you said earlier, and I talked to some people. Sending you to the Weasleys won't work, not on such a short notice. But if you really don't want to go back to the Dursleys, then you have the chance to come to Grimmauld Place. I'm sure that Ron and Hermione will be there at some point later in the holidays as well."

Harry frowned. For one, he would have preferred to stay at the Burrow to staying at his godfather's house, but what confused him even more was that this sounded like the exact opposite of what Dumbledore had said.

"But Professor Dumbledore said that I should go back to my aunt and uncle. Does he know about that? I don't think he wants me at Grimmauld Place, otherwise he'd have made me come there already."

Remus leaned against the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest. That was what he had feared, Harry's hesitancy to do something against the rules could cause the biggest problem for his plan. But it was for Harry's own good, he just had to make the teenager see that.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore said that I should bring you back to your relatives. He said that because he is concerned about your safety, mainly. Of course he also wants you to feel well, but you have to see that he is very occupied at the moment. He has much to think about, so his main concern is that you are physically safe. But you've said that you don't want to stay with your relatives any longer, and I can understand why that is so. And as I can manage to bring you safely to Grimmauld Place, I don't see where the problem is. As soon as you are there, I will inform Albus of it, then we will tell your relatives and there should be no further problems. After all, Grimmauld Place is one of the few very safe places, it's well warded and guarded. If you really don't want to stay at Privet Drive any longer, you don't need to worry about coming to London."

Harry thought for a moment and Remus could tell that he was not entirely convinced. But if he wanted Remus to pull his plan through, then he was the one who needed to say it. After a long moment, Harry finally spoke again.

"And you won't get into trouble if you take me to Grimmauld Place?"

Remus shook his head. "No. After all, you were there last summer as well, there are enough people around to guard you and once I explain Albus the reasons he will understand. Harry, he cares for you as well, he only does not have the time to do so thoroughly. That's why I try to do it."

Harry finally nodded.

"All right. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Harry. I need to talk to Dung again, and unfortunately we'll have to take a portkey. I know you don't like them, but that's the only possibility of getting to Grimmauld Place quickly and safely."

Again, Harry nodded.

"That's all right."

With another smile at the teenager, Remus turned around to leave the room. Once the doctor had given Harry a clean bill of health – something Remus did not doubt – then he needed to have a portkey organized and have Dung ready to wipe their trace. Portkeys left a magical signature that could be followed by a wizard if they knew what to search for, and Remus did not want to risk anything. And if there was somebody who knew how to vanish without a trace, then it was Mundungus Fletcher. Otherwise he would not have gotten through with the more illegal parts of his career without ever getting caught.


	6. Collisions

**Chapter 06 – Collisions**

After ninety minutes Harry had been released from the hospital by an extremely confused doctor who still could not explain the leap in the improvement of his condition, but who nevertheless could do nothing else than letting him go. In the meantime, Remus had talked again to Dung who would take care of their trace as soon as they had left by portkey. They had agreed that it would be easiest if they left from Harry's room as soon as the doctors had officially released him, so Dung had to once more place a concealment charm on himself to get into the room unnoticed after they had left. The portkey was the biggest problem Remus was facing. He was able to create a portkey set for headquarters, no problem there, the problem about it was that actually it was illegal. Portkeys had to be handed out by the Ministry, and creating them without the Ministry knowing about it was not allowed. But then again, most probably nobody would notice, the portkey control was more precaution than anything else, and it stemmed from far darker times during the first war. It was not really a law that actually still made sense. And as long as no Ministry employee saw him producing or using the portkey, there would be no sanctions – one of the reasons why Remus had chosen not to involve Arthur in this little plan. No need to put the man through any additional problems with his conscience, he was already giving away far too much information for his Order work and Remus knew how loyal Arthur normally was.

So after he had prepared the portkey – a crisp package he had taken from the vending-machine in the waiting area of the hospital – he went into the hospital room where Harry waited for him. The teenager looked up as Remus entered and had a slightly doubtful expression on his face.

"Erm Professor – Remus, I mean, what about my things? All my school things are still at Privet Drive, my clothes and everything as well."

The flaw in his plan, Remus realized. Of course all of Harry's things were still with his relatives, he should have thought about that. But fortunately that was one of the smaller problems.

"Right, I forgot about that. Let's get you to Grimmauld Place first and tell Albus that we moved you, somebody will then have to inform your relatives about where you are anyway. We can fetch your things then."

Harry nodded. "Okay."

Still the doubtful expression did not vanish from Harry's face, but this time Remus knew it was because of the prospect of taking a portkey. Not that he could begrudge him for it, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

"Ready to leave?"

Harry nodded and came over to where Remus was standing.

"I set the portkey myself, and I'm going with you, so you don't really need to worry. It will deliver us into the bushes of the small square near the house, so that we don't arouse suspicion. Dung will be watching our way to Number 12, just in case anything happens, but that is not likely. But as we cannot be too careful, I'll place a Disillusionment Charm on the both of us, all right?"

Harry nodded and a moment later Remus pointed his wand at his head and he felt the same cold and trickling sensation that he had had last summer under similar circumstances. Remus repeated the process with himself, then held out the crisp package to Harry

"Ready?"

"Yes." Remus felt more than saw that Harry took hold of the portkey and raised his wand.

"Five seconds delay after I activate the portkey, hold on."

Remus tapped his wand against the portkey, held on to the crisp package and after a couple of heartbeats they were on their way to Grimmauld Place.

They indeed landed in the middle of the plants in the small square diagonally across from the now invisible Number 12, and Remus quickly pocketed the crisp package. The only indication of their arrival had been a rather abrupt rustling of the rhododendrons they had landed in between, but any passer-by would have blamed that movement of the plants on a gust of wind or something similar. Remus straightened and brushed the leaves off his robe.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Let's go over immediately, how about that? I'll take off the Charms once we're inside, that's safer."

As he could hardly see the teenager he placed an arm around Harry's shoulder so that he could feel where he was walking, and steered him towards the space between number 11 and 13 and Harry could not help but be fascinated by how the house seemed to appear out of thin air. No matter that he had already seen it happen a year ago, the idea that an entire house could simply 'vanish' and 'reappear', though it was actually there the entire time, fascinated him to no end. There were simply some things about the wizarding world which he would never get entirely used to.

As soon as Number 12 had appeared, Remus steered Harry in through the front door without speaking another word. Harry silently asked himself why they had not simply taken a portkey the last time the Order members had brought him here, but didn't dare to ask.

Harry had never thought that he'd ever return to that place, not to the house Sirius had grown up in and where he had been caught in for the whole last year. Even now, though he had been able to get used to the thought of returning here, Harry could not suppress a shudder as he crossed the threshold again. Fortunately, Sirius' mother didn't seem to have noticed that somebody had arrived and remained blissfully silent. He really didn't need to be reminded of his godfather's death first thing upon arriving, especially not from her.

The first thing Remus did as soon as the door had closed behind them was taking down the Disillusionment Charms, then he gestured towards the stairs that led into the kitchen downstairs.

"How about we get you something to eat and then settle you back into your old room? I'm sure somebody will fetch your things this afternoon, I'll go myself as soon as I've talked to Albus."

"I'll come along if you want to, after all they're my things. And I'm already used to my aunt and uncle."

Remus shook his head.

"No, it might be better if you stayed here. Getting you from the hospital to London by a portkey is one thing, but Professor Dumbledore will have my hide if I let you travel through Britain without a guard. I know you don't like it, but it's important for your safety."

"Yes, I understand."  
Harry shrugged and started towards the stairs when suddenly there were steps from above them and Severus Snape came walking down from the upper corridor. His coal black eyes darted from Remus to Harry and back again, his expression quickly turning into one of the most angry looks Harry had ever seen on him.

"Care to explain that, Lupin?"

Remus ignored him for the moment and calmly turned towards Harry.

"Why don't you wait for me downstairs, Harry? I'll be along in a minute."

Harry didn't really want to, but nevertheless he turned back and started to walk down the stairs. Halfway down however, he decided that he'd rather hear right now why Snape didn't seem all that pleased to have him here than again be left in the dark about it. What he saw was that Snape had come to a halt in front of Remus and was looking at him expectantly.

"Lupin?"

"What are you talking about, Severus?"

"Don't give me that! What is Potter doing here? I thought that Albus had been explicit in his instructions to return him to his relatives."

Snape's posture would have intimidated most of the people Harry knew, he was standing close in front of Remus and was glaring down at him, his right hand holding his wand by his leg as if he was about to use it sometime soon. But Remus only stared back at him, his gaze defiant. Harry realized that Remus wasn't that much smaller than Snape actually was, though the Potions master was maybe two or three inches taller than Remus he didn't seem to tower over Remus. But maybe that was because Remus suddenly seemed to be more angry than Harry had ever seen him.

"I will not allow Harry to be returned to his relatives."

His voice was firm and clear, but Harry saw his hands shaking ever so slightly.

Snape laughed.

"Oh, and since when exactly is this _your_ decision to make?"

"Since when is it Albus'?"  
Snape spluttered and for a moment had to fight to regain his composure. Harry realized that Remus also had his wand out, though he too was still holding it beside his leg.

"I would say, Lupin, that Albus has only Potter's best interest in mind, and by now we all should be aware that he is safest with his blood relatives."

"Which the events of the past couple of days have undoubtedly proven."

Harry winced slightly at those words and at the thought that Remus had to defend him for his failed attempt at potions brewing, but Snape interrupted his thoughts immediately.

"Nobody could know that the idiot boy nearly accidentally killed himself and relieved the Dark Lord of this task!"

"My point exactly, Harry's relatives wouldn't have known. They don't care enough about him, but _I_ do. That's why I brought him here, so that something like that won't happen again."

Snape shook his head slowly and with quite a start Harry saw that Remus was clutching his wand tightly with his left hand and though Harry didn't know him all that well he guessed that Remus was fighting very hard to keep his composure. Snape however, would not relent anytime soon, if only for the sake of disagreeing with Remus.

"Potter can't stay here!"

"It's not your choice to make!"

"And neither is it yours!", Snape shouted back. Remus paled even more in anger and for a moment Harry asked himself if it would be wisest to interrupt them before things got out of hand. Remus – his jaw set – shook his head and didn't back down under Snape's glare.

"I definitely won't bring him to Privet Drive again and just leave him there! I am not like you Severus, I want to be able to look into a mirror with a clear conscience. And I certainly won't be able to live with myself if I brought him back to those muggles!"

Snape sneered.

"You could live with that and yourself very well for the first thirteen years of his life, Lupin."

Before Snape knew what was happening, Remus had pinned him up against the wall and had his wand pointed at the other's face.

"Don't. You. Dare! Don't you dare talking about things you don't understand! You know _nothing_ about that, Severus. Albus said Harry would be fine with the muggles, and my one big mistake in life was not daring to doubt him when I knew the decision to be wrong. I didn't dare to doubt Albus then, but I have learned from my mistake and am more than willing to dare doubting him now. I thought that especially _you_ would understand that line of thought, Severus. Shouldn't you know what it's like to make one wrong decision and try to make a better choice later in life? Isn't it the same when it's about leaving Harry with the muggles or serving the Dark Lord…?"

Harry only saw Remus fly backwards to the floor and before he knew what was happening Snape was towering above him, wand pointed at Remus' chest. With his right hand Remus gingerly fingered his head where it had impacted with the floor, but the wand in his left hand pointed straight at Snape. Both men were so angry that a couple of stray sparks were already starting to fly from their wands. Harry held his breath, thinking about something he could do to tear those two apart. But if he was honest he would not want to be anywhere within wand-range of any of the two at the moment.

"Come on Severus, just curse me. Hasn't that always been your answer to everything?"

Again, Snape sneered and a shiver ran down Harry's spine.

"Lupin, it is definitely not my problem that ever since Black was stupid enough to get himself killed you are useless except from when it comes to staring at the wall. Don't vent that out on me!"

Remus scrambled to his feet again with a speed Harry would not have expected from him after how hard he had been knocked to the floor. Just as Snape raised his wand, a door to their right opened.

"Severus? Remus? What is going on here?"

Arthur Weasly stepped into the hallway, his own wand drawn and eying the two men warily. With careful steps he placed himself between Snape and Remus.

Remus was breathing harshly as he lowered his wand, unconsciously rubbing his wand-hand over the back of his other as he tried to get himself back under control. Snape was looking as murderous as Harry had ever seen him, and Harry could not help but admire Mr. Weasley's courage for stepping between those two.

Snape pocketed his wand and turned towards the door.

"Nothing Arthur. I was just about to leave."

Snape left and without another word Remus went upstairs. Only then did Mr. Weasley see the still startled Harry standing on the stairs.

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

Confused, he went over towards Harry and looked him up and down.

"You look a bit shaken. What happened here? Come on, let's get you down into the kitchen and let Molly make you something to eat, those muggles in the hospital surely didn't give you enough food. And then you tell us what happened here."

He put his hands on Harry's shoulders and steered him down into the kitchen. Harry had to forcefully fight back the tears when he thought about how they had spent the last Christmas here, how much Sirius' mood had brightened up when they had come for a visit and how they all together had eaten their Christmas dinner here in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley came over to them as soon as she realized that somebody had entered the kitchen, and with quite some astonishment she realized that it was Harry.

"Harry, dear! What are you doing here?"

Harry fought down the urge to flinch away from her embrace. Mrs. Weasley had said some pretty mean things to and about Sirius over the course of the last year, and only now with Sirius dead did he realize just how much they stung. But he silently allowed Mrs. Weasley to hug him for a moment before he sat down at the kitchen table. A moment later a plate filled with breakfast was placed in front of him and Mr. Weasley sat down on the other side of the table.

"Tuck in, Harry."

Reluctantly, Harry picked up his fork and shoved the tings on the breakfast plate around, eating here a bit and there a bit without any real appetite.

"What happened up there in the hallway, Harry?", Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I don't really know. Professor Lupin…Remus and I came in, and when those two met in the hallway they started fighting about why he brought me here. Then it just escalated, I think."  
Mrs. Weasly looked up worriedly.

"Remus and Severus were fighting?"

"Nearly hexing each other, yes." Mr. Weasley nodded. "I don't know what's gotten into Remus, it just isn't like him to lose control like that. He stormed upstairs."

"I'll have a look at him." And Mrs. Weasley left the room. Mr. Weasley sat down opposite of him with a cup of tea, and with an encouraging smile gestured for Harry to start on his food. Though Harry could tell that there was a somewhat strained quality to his smile, but whether this had to do with what he had just witnessed upstairs or with what everybody had assumed about his potions mishap Harry did not know.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

Harry shrugged between two bites of scrambled eggs. "Fine, thank you. Whatever Professor Snape did yesterday helped immensely, I don't feel as if something had been wrong at all."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Good. Very good. Erm…Harry? Don't understand me wrong, you know that we always like to have you around, but what are you doing here? I don't recall Albus saying anything about you coming to Grimmauld Place."

Harry shifted uncomfortably and pushed his half-eaten plate away from him.

"Well, actually he does not really know yet. Remus took me here because I asked him to. I didn't really want to go back to my relatives."

Mr. Weasley frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Did something happen? You never wrote anything in your letters, we thought everything was all right."

"Nothing is wrong, really. I guess I'll never like them, and it will never be fun to live at Privet Drive, but until this summer I didn't mind all that much. I mean, I know it was necessary, so I didn't say anything. But now – I just can't, Mr. Weasley. Not after what happened with Sirius."

Harry only hoped that Mr. Weasley would understand, he had no intentions of explaining it to Ron's father at the lengths he had explained it to Remus. He really didn't need everybody to know just what a weakling he was. Obviously Mr. Weasley did understand, or he just pretended to, because he nodded and let go off the topic.

"Is Ron here as well?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head.

"No, he is not. Actually, Molly and I aren't staying here over night either, if it can be prevented. At the moment Bill and Charlie are not busy with anything time-consuming, so they're at the Burrow keeping an eye on Ron and Ginny. The twins are in their store for most of the time, and…well, that's it. But the way things are looking at the moment, the younger ones will come here at the end of the week, anyway, because Bill and Charlie will have other things to do."

Harry nodded, not commenting on the slight pause Mr. Weasley had made earlier. He knew only too well what Mr. Weasley had nearly said, one name had been missing from the list of the Weasley children. That Mr. Weasley had not said where Percy was at the moment told him that the conflict between Ron's older brother and his family was seemingly not resolved yet. He would not pry there, that much was sure.

Harry got up from his chair and carried his plate and cup over towards the kitchen sink.

"Do you think I can stay in the room I stayed in last summer? I don't know when Remus is going to talk to Professor Dumbledore, and my things are still at Privet Drive, but still."

Mr. Weasley smiled and got up as well.

"I'm sure you can. Let's get you upstairs, see if the room needs a good dusting up or something. I don't think anybody has been in there since last Christmas. And on our way we can have a look whether Remus has calmed enough for a trip to Privet Drive."

"I didn't want him to get into a fight with Professor Snape because of me. I told him that if it causes problems for me to be here, he could bring me back to my aunt and uncle."

"Ah", Mr. Weasley waved with his hand, "you're not causing problems, Harry. Remus has been a bit edgy lately, that he got into a fight with Professor Snape was not because of you. Your arrival might have been the trigger, but the tension has thickened between them for quite some time now, it had to explode some time. It's not your fault, and that it happened at all is not the end of the world. Now, let's get upstairs, how about that?"

Harry nodded and together with Mr. Weasley he climbed the stairs out of the basement kitchen and farther up onto the floor where his room from last summer was located. On their way, they passed Remus' room, which – as Harry was just about to find out – was located on the end of the corridor in which his own room was. And they knew it was Remus' room because they could easily hear him and Mrs. Weasley shouting from behind the closed door. And it became obvious very quickly that they were fighting about Harry's presence in the house, amongst other things.

"You know that this is not the problem", Mrs. Weasley was saying, "but was it really necessary to jump at Severus' throat like that?"

"Why was I supposed to back down, can you tell me that? Just because Severus can't stand Harry doesn't mean I have to agree with it. Excuse me for making an own decision once in my life, and for standing up for that decision afterwards. Harry could not stay there any longer, so I took him out of there. That you're siding with Severus now is something I would not have expected."

"This has nothing to do with siding with Severus", Mrs. Weasley shot back venomously. "It just isn't like you to all of a sudden start making your own rules. You know that Harry isn't the problem, and neither is his being here. It's just…this isn't you, Remus. You aren't that rash, you simply aren't the kind of person to throw caution in the wind and do something against explicit orders. That…"

Harry realized that Mr. Weasley wanted to pull him down the corridor and away from Remus' room, but he didn't let himself be dragged away. After all, Remus and Mrs. Weasley were fighting because of him.

"What, Molly?" Remus continued, still unaware of their presence in front of the door. If Harry was not all that mistaken, there was a taunting quality in his voice and Harry asked himself what could have enraged him like that.

"What about '_that_'? Come on, I'd like to hear what you wanted to say!"

"Do you, Remus?" Harry knew that tone of voice. He had heard Mrs. Weasley talk like that to Fred and George a number of times. Resolute telling-offs, most of those occasions had been.

"_That_ isn't like you. Taking Harry out of there, bringing him here against Albus' explicit orders, then getting yourself lured into a fight with Severus was rash, egoistical, selfish and narrow-minded. In short, it was stupid and unnecessary. It was something Sirius would have done. He is _dead_, Remus. It would be a big mistake if you tried to take his role now. It wouldn't be fair towards Harry and you'd not help your own coping with Sirius' death, either. If you listen to me, better stop trying to be like him."

"Oh, and who exactly gives you the right to judge that? Don't you think I'm painfully aware that Sirius is dead? I'm only trying to make things easier for Harry, I'm sorry if I made you feel I stepped into your territory. But you are not the only one who cares about him!"

"Then don't hurt him any further by trying to be Sirius! I'm not all that sure he'd have been good for Harry, anyway."

"Stop it, Molly!" Remus' tone was suddenly very harsh and very angry, and Harry found himself sympathizing with it. How could Mrs. Wesley dare to say something like that?

"Just because you never learned to see Sirius any different than you wanted to see him doesn't mean he was like that. Sirius was a good person!"

"Who more than once endangered others because he never thought about the consequences! Because he was too rash, because he only cared about his own fame and success. Sooner or later he'd have pulled Harry into one of his dangerous schemes, you know that it's true."

"Sirius cared about Harry", Remus all but shouted back. "He'd never have done anything that would have endangered him!"

"Oh no? Don't you think _I_ should know better? You know as well as I do that Arthur and Bill nearly died because of him! You might still let your friendship with him blind you…"

"I've had enough, Molly! I really don't need to listen to this!"

Harry jumped back in surprise as suddenly the door to Remus' room was ripped open and his former teacher stood in the doorframe. Mr. Weasley still held on to Harry's arm as if to pull him away. Remus stared at them for a moment, not really knowing what to think or say. Mrs. Weasley brushed past them, also looked at Harry and her husband for a moment, but then she hurried over towards the staircase and ran down. After another moment of hesitation, Remus went back into his room and slammed the door shut.

Finally, Harry gave in to Mr. Weasley's pull on his arm and allowed himself to be led down the corridor towards the room he and Ron had occupied here last year. Mr. Weasley was clearly distraught as he quickly dusted the room with a wave of his wand. With a last look around to see that the room was all right for the moment, Mr. Weasley wordlessly turned around and went downstairs again.

With a wary sigh, Harry let himself fall onto one of the beds and crossed his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. Maybe it would have been better if he had simply stayed at Privet Drive. He had been here for hardly thirty minutes, and already Remus had nearly duelled with Snape, and Mrs. Weasley and Remus had been fighting – just because of him. And now that he sat here in the silence of 'his' room, he became aware for the first time just how much it hurt to be back here. Harry wasn't ready to cope with this now, but he had manoeuvred himself pretty deep into all this pretty quickly. And what was that Mrs. Weasley had said about Bill and Mr. Weasley nearly dying because of Sirius? Nobody had ever told him about something like that before, and Harry didn't even want to think it could be true. After all, Mrs. Weasley had just said a couple of things which he would have rather not heard.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Harry quickly opened his eyes and looked around wildly in search of the source of the harsh question. It took him a moment to realize that the portrait of Sirius' great-grand-uncle Phineas Nigellus - Hogwarts' least favourite headmaster of all time – had come into the picture frame in Harry's room. The other frame Harry had seen him use hung in Professor Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, where Phineas hung around and pretended to sleep for most of the day. Well, that way at least Dumbledore would know about him being here soon.

"What are you doing here?", Phineas repeated. "You're that Potter-boy, aren't you? I remember you! Answer me!"

"I've asked Professor Lupin to take me here", Harry said, for the moment forgetting to call him Remus. "I…I didn't want to stay with my muggle-relatives any longer."

"Hmpf." Phineas pulled a face. "I don't remember him mentioning to look out for your arrival", he mumbled. Harry shrugged apologetically. "He didn't actually know about it. Professor Dumbledore, I mean, if that's who you are talking about."

"Oh, I'm convinced that he will know very soon. There has been surprisingly little happening at headquarters over the past months which he didn't know about."

And without another word he was gone, probably back to Hogwarts to let Dumbledore know where Harry was. Harry only hoped that Remus didn't get into any trouble for bringing him here.

Though he still didn't know what to think of his earlier shouting match with Mrs. Weasley. Already last year Ron's mother had said a number of mean things to and about Harry's godfather. Harry still didn't know what to make of that. Whatever the reason why Mrs. Weasley disliked Sirius, and whatever it had to do with Mr. Weasley and Bill, it still seemed to affect her, even after Sirius' death.

Harry rolled to the side and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the world around him. He should have known that coming back here, to the last place where his godfather had lived, would hurt too much. And as if that wasn't enough, he only brought trouble along for those around him. Harry curled up on the bed and tried to hold back his tears, though he couldn't stop one of them from running down his cheek. He had cried far too much already lately.

He didn't see Remus standing silently in the doorway. After he had calmed down and thought for a minute or two about how his fight with Molly must have looked to Harry, he had decided to seek the teenager out. But now that he saw Harry like that – for the second time in two days – he realized that Molly had been right in one thing. He was not Sirius. Because unlike his deceased friend, he had absolutely no idea how to deal with such a situation. Truly, if Sirius was still alive, they would not be in this situation at all and Harry would not feel this bad. But Sirius would know how to deal with something like this. Sirius would instinctively know what to do to make the teenager feel better. Not that Remus was not feeling sympathetic, he wanted to help Harry cope with everything, he simply didn't know _how_. It was not exactly one of this strengths, Remus knew that. He could easily detect how people were feeling, but he always had problems in acting according to what he felt. There were those massive reservations he had concerning close contact with others. Reservations Sirius had never had. Remus really wanted to step into Harry's room right now and give the teenager a long hug, but something held him back, a little nagging voice inside of his head told him that he had no right to do so. That Harry didn't want him to do that, that the teenager would be repelled by close contact with him. And as long as he didn't know if Harry really wanted to be comforted by him, he'd rather not do anything. He simply couldn't.

With a huge mental sigh, Remus turned around and left the room. He'd better go inform Albus about what had happened, and then he ought to have a talk with Molly.

But the fireplace was in the kitchen, and he guessed that was where Molly was as well, so then it was taking the bull by its horns and talking to Molly first. He sighed and began to descend the stairs.

Molly and Arthur were sitting on the long kitchen table facing each other, talking lowly. They at first didn't realize that Remus had come into the room and only when he stepped into the light of the hearth did Arthur look up at him.

It was difficult for Remus to read the expression in Arthur's eyes, as a father of seven he seemingly knew very well how to conceal his emotions even if he was really angry, but there would be a time for that later.

"Arthur, could you give Molly and me a moment, please?"

Arthur wordlessly nodded and got up from his place, taking a stack of parchments that had been lying on the table in front of him with him. Remus poured himself a cup of tea and sat down facing Molly.

She didn't look up when he sat down, and Remus waited for a moment before he started to speak. It was a bit ridiculous, really. They knew each other for so many years now, they had already been in the Order together during the first war, and still Remus had problems in finding a start to apologize.

"Molly, I wanted to talk to you about earlier."

Finally the red-haired woman looked up at Remus.

"Why, forgot something to say?"

Remus shook his head and sighed sadly.

"No, Molly. I…I wanted to apologize. I had no right to say those things to you just because I'm angry and don't know how to vent it off. I know that you care deeply about Harry and that you as well as we all here want only the best for him. I was getting territorial where I had no right to do so, and I'm truly sorry for it."

Molly smiled at him slightly.

"It's all right, Remus. We're all going through hard times right now, and we all lose our temper from time to time. Merlin knows this house has seen enough of that during the past year."

"Molly, please." Remus sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Please, don't say that. Not here, not now. Molly, I know you never approved of Sirius, but for my sake please let go off it now. He has been my friend, and it's hard enough for me that he's gone as it is. We could talk about him for hours – we could talk about what nearly happened to Arthur and Bill back then for hours – and never once reach an agreement. Frankly, I don't have the will or strength for such a useless petty fighting. Could we maybe just try not to think of it for now? I wouldn't want to walk around you on tip-toe for as long as this here is going to last."

Slowly, Molly nodded.

"Yes, you're right. Sorry that I brought it up again. Let's just put it aside."

Remus smiled in relief and squeezed Molly's hand on the tabletop.

"Thank you."

He got up from the bench, took another cup down from the shelf and poured tea into it.

"I'd better go upstairs and look after Harry. I think I owe him an apology as well. And to Severus, too, come to think of it."

He grimaced slightly and Molly chuckled, easing some of the tension in the room.

"I'd dare saying that Severus won't give much mind to the fact whether you apologize or not."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I'm still convinced that somewhere deep down he has buried something akin to feelings. But I'd rather worry about Harry first. But before I do that, I think I should tell Albus where Harry is now, otherwise he'll be after my hide."

He took the cup of tea over towards the stove, then knelt down in front of the fireplace and threw some floo-call powder into it.

"Hogwarts, headmaster's office."

It took endless moments until finally the flames flickered and Albus' head appeared in the fireplace. While Remus still thought how he'd best explain to his former headmaster what had transpired, Albus took that away from him.

"Ah Remus, I was wondering when you'd call to tell me about Harry's removal to Grimmauld Place."

Remus' jaw dropped and for a moment he had to think about what to respond. Wasn't there anything Albus Dumbledore didn't know about? Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

"Phineas Nigellus saw Harry and immediately returned to his frame here in my office to tell me about it. I wanted to contact you, but then a call from the Minister came in between."

"Albus, I know it went against your explicit orders, but there was a reason why I did not return Harry to his relatives."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully for a moment.

"I thought as much already. I will be at headquarters tonight, why don't we talk then?"

Remus nodded.

"I want to fetch Harry's things from his aunt and uncle, but I should be back in about an hour or two."

Dumbledore frowned.

"Talking about what you did today is one thing, and I don't doubt that you had a reason for what you did. But you know that Harry is safest with his relatives. Maybe it would be the best if we cleared up what happened and then thought about bringing him back."

Remus immediately shook his head.

"No. Albus, I won't let him go back there, at least not for the rest of this summer."

"What happened, Remus?"

Remus only shook his head. "Not via the fireplace. I'll tell you tonight. Goodbye Albus."

"Goodbye Remus."

As Remus leaned back on his heels he could not help a relieved sigh escaping his lips. Though he knew that Albus was concerned about Harry, he had not been entirely sure how his former headmaster would react to what Remus had done. Now he only needed to talk to Harry.

He got up from his position on the floor, picked up his own teacup as well as Harry's, then he went up towards Harry's room. In front of the door he breathed in deeply a couple of times, then he knocked hesitantly. It took a moment, and in front of his mental eye Remus saw Harry bring himself into a slightly more orderly position and wipe his eyes, then the teenager called Remus in.

Remus opened the door with his elbow and balanced the two cups in. Indeed Harry had gotten up from the bed and now sat on the windowsill with his knees drawn up to his chest. He glanced at Remus as the door opened but then quickly looked out of the window again. Remus went over and sat down on the windowsill so that he was facing Harry and placed the two cups in between them.

"I'm sorry that you heard Molly and me earlier."

"Only that I heard it?", Harry shot back a bit icily. Seemingly, his earlier feelings had quickly turned into anger.

"First and foremost that you heard it, yes. I don't enjoy fighting with Molly, either, but sometimes it happens. We talked about it and cleared it up."

Harry shrugged, then picked up his cup of tea.

"I don't like it when people fight because of me. I'm barely here for an hour and already you've gotten into a fight with both Professor Snape and Mrs. Weasley. Maybe I should go back to Privet Drive."

Remus shook his head, hoping that Harry would finally start to look into his eyes instead of staring out of the window.

"No, I don't think it would be better if you went back there. You didn't want to go back there only this morning, and I don't think you've changed your mind so quickly. I should not have gotten into the fight with Severus, but my temper just got the better of me. I'm not infallible. The same goes for my fight with Molly. But sometimes things like that just happen. You should know Professor Snape well enough to know that he'd not be pleased to have you here. It's more a principle than anything else. And my fight with Molly was about Severus and me, not about you. We want you to stay here, I want you to stay here. But you have to understand that we're only human, and ever since…since Sirius' death all our tempers have been a bit hotter than usual. It's never directed against you, Harry."

Harry only shrugged again, obviously still not entirely convinced or pacified. Remus smiled at him, but Harry still looked out of the window and thusly didn't see.

"I'm really sorry for what happened earlier, Harry."

"It's just…just so difficult to be back here. I had not thought it would be that hard to come back here after what happened to Sirius." Finally, Harry tore his gaze away from the street outside and looked at Remus. "And then there was only trouble and it got even more difficult. I don't know if it was such a good idea."

Remus listened wordlessly, and after Harry had finished he watched him intensely for another moment. He struggled to find the right words to tell Harry now. His own grief for his deceased friend made it even harder for him to say something, the words just didn't get past the painful lump in his throat. It took a minute until he was finally sure he could speak without his voice breaking.

"That Sirius is dead hurts, and will continue to hurt you. No matter if you're here or at Privet Drive. The difference is that here you have people who care for you, just like you said you wanted and needed to have around. Molly and Arthur will listen to you, I'll be there to listen anytime you want to. We all know what you've lost, because we've lost him as well. I doubt that in the long run you'd be better off at Privet Drive."

Again, Harry only shrugged in response. Remus saw that he was fighting to keep the tears at bay.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

This time, Harry shook his head immediately.

"No", he breathed out shakily. "Thanks, but I can't, not now."

Remus nodded. "I understand, it's all right. But I meant what I said earlier. If you want to talk, if you need someone to listen to you, I'll be there for you."

"I know, thanks."

"All right. Now, I'll be off to fetch your things from Privet Drive, so I'll be gone for an hour or so. Molly and Arthur are down in the kitchen. Maybe they can bring Ron over earlier than planned, from all I know he and Ginny are at the Burrow at the moment. Was Hedwig at Privet Drive?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, but I left her cage open, so she was probably off hunting when I was brought to the hospital."

"I'll see if she's close by or not. If she isn't, I'm sure she's clever enough to find you here. After all, she was here last summer. And if not she'll probably try the Burrow. Professor Dumbledore wanted to drop by later this evening, I told him that I moved you. Well, actually Phineas told him, and he seemed okay with the decision for now. I'll explain the rest tonight."

"Good, thank you."

"I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah, until later."

With a last encouraging smile Remus got up from the windowsill and left the room. Hopefully the upcoming encounter with Harry's relatives would be shorter and less difficult than the last one. He didn't fancy a lengthy discussion with the muggles now, not while his patience was as strained as it already was.

About an hour later, Remus rushed out of the fireplace in the basement kitchen of Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place again. He should have known that any hope of Harry's relatives not straining his nerves was short-lived. Those people seemed to have the inborn ability to annoy him. He didn't know how Harry managed to live with them for as long as he had done without losing his control more often than he had. So Harry had blown up his uncle's sister once, but after what Remus had faced over the past two days alone, he could sympathize with that. He had had half a mind to do worse things to those people this afternoon. It had not helped at all that Remus still felt tired and dizzy as he had done all day. Actually, as he had done all week. But as he had not had that much time to get rest it was no surprise, really. Not that he got much rest anyway, his insomnia and the nightmares took care of that. But that was something he would worry about once Harry was safe and settled, right now the teenager was far more important than his own problems of slight exhaustion.

With a sigh Remus put Harry's trunk and the empty owl-cage down on the floor near the hearth. After a short initial struggle of wills which Remus had won, Vernon had agreed to let him take Harry's possessions. It could have been the promise that Harry would not return to Privet Drive that summer which had made the man agree, it could also have been the fear of what a fully educated wizard could do to him in case he did not comply. Whatever it had been, Remus could not have cared less about it. He had packed up all of Harry's possessions as quickly as he could, had taken Hedwig's empty cage and had left the house without another word to Harry's relatives. On his way to Arabella's he had done his best to let off the steam which had accumulated during the visit so that he would not let it out on Arabella or anybody else, but he still felt angry. The air of those people, really! And come to think that they had been allowed to raise Harry, the fact that he had become such a nice and caring young man despite their education still was a miracle for Remus.

"Good afternoon, Remus."

Remus spun around and gasped. He must have been really lost in his thoughts if he hadn't realized that he was not alone in the kitchen.

"Hello Albus. You're early, I had not expected you before this evening."

Remus pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table so that he was facing Dumbledore.

"I see you brought Harry's things. All went well at Privet Drive?"

"As well as could be expected considering whom we're talking about. They're definitely not people I like to spend time with."

That was only the beating about the bush-part of their conversation, Remus was aware of that. But no matter what Dumbledore had to say about Harry's protection, his visit in Little Whinging had convinced Remus that taking Harry out of there had been the right decision. Had been the only decision he could make with a clear conscience.

"Now, I have to admit that I'd very much like to know what convinced you to take Harry to Grimmauld Place, Remus. At some risk, I have to say."

"I minimized the risks as well as I could. I know it was an illegal portkey, but nobody found out about it. Dung wiped our trace, and he was watching that the coast was clear for us at Grimmauld Place Alastor so that we could get safely inside. And we were hidden under a Concealment Charm. As for why I took those risks to bring Harry here, his relatives were reason enough, believe me."

"What happened?"

Remus laughed mirthlessly and crossed his legs.

"Aside from the fact that Harry nearly died under their roof and they didn't realize? Albus, they were not worried about him at all. Normally when somebody's nephew seemingly tried to commit suicide, it would be normal for the relatives to worry, wouldn't it? But their only worry was that Harry could get sick on their new car-upholstery, or that they could be seen in his presence! They didn't care at all, not about _why_ he could have possibly done that or if he'd be all right, their only worry was how this could influence their own lives!"

Dumbledore watched Remus' outburst calmly.

"But from what I know, Harry didn't try to commit suicide, did he?"

"No, but even when it still looked as if he _had_ tried, they didn't care. Albus, those people can't be entrusted with Harry, especially not after what he's been through lately. He has lost Sirius, do I really need to tell you what that means for him? He needs help now to start dealing with that, and they are definitely not the kind of support he needs now."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling for a long moment. When he finally looked at Remus again, the younger man was completely unable to tell the headmaster's thoughts.

"Remus, it's the place where Harry is safest."

"And it's the easiest solution, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is what I said. It's the easiest solution. Harry is locked away in Little Whinging and nobody needs to worry any further about him. He might be physically safe there, but do you have any idea what being forced to stay there does to him? It surely has a reason why we all so easily believed that Harry tried to commit suicide, because it was a known fact that he was unhappy there. Only this morning he told me that he doesn't want to return there. He can't stand to be there anymore, and it takes a lot to make Harry admit something like that. We all try to protect Harry, but shouldn't we for once consider what _he_ wants?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I've always wanted the best for Harry. And his safety is paramount Remus, you know that."

"But it's not the _only_ thing that counts. I know that you care about Harry, but that you have a lot to do and thusly can't care for him twenty-four hours a day. But there are others who can, I can do that. Harry was here last summer as well and nobody was overly worried about additional safety measures. I want to give him a chance to for once be around people who care for him when he needs it. And he needs it now. He can't cope with Sirius' death, not alone. I won't let him return to his relatives, he won't be able to deal with what happened, not there. He might be physically safest there, but I'm far more worried about his mental wellbeing right now."

Dumbledore watched Remus for another long moment, and Remus suddenly felt very exhausted. Now that he had said what he had wanted to say the tension left him. His head started to throb and all he wanted to do was lie down and start another hopeless attempt at getting a few hours of sleep without nightmares.

"Harry refuses to go back there?"

Remus shook his head.

"Albus, if you told him to go back there, he would. He'd write a letter every other day stating that he's fine, but he'd be lying. You should know him well enough to know that he'll always put the wishes of others above his own. But I'm sure it would not be good for him to return there, at least not for the rest of this holiday."

Slowly, Dumbledore nodded.

"If you think it's best for Harry." There was still a slight note of doubt in his voice. "I don't know exactly when Molly and Arthur were planning to bring Ron and Ginny over, we had spoken about bringing Harry here for the last two weeks of the holiday if nothing happened in between. If we let him stay here however, we will have to make sure that he's not alone in the house under any circumstances. We cannot be careful enough, Voldemort will be doing all he can to locate headquarters. And he'll put an even stronger effort in finding Harry. And no matter that the protection around Grimmauld Place is strong, he is not as safe here as he would be at Privet Drive."

"But for the moment he is safe here", Remus objected. Dumbledore nodded hesitantly.

"For the moment, yes. But what if something happens?"

"What kind of something do you mean?"

"What if this war starts, Remus? As soon as Voldemort finally reveals himself publicly, as soon as he takes action, we will all be demanded very much. I know I don't have to tell you, you have been in the Order during the first war already. In that case we have to think about removing Harry from Grimmauld Place. It would be too dangerous, we are already in constant danger of Voldemort locating us. Until we are not demanded elsewhere, we can do everything we can to prevent detection, but what if our attention is needed elsewhere?"

Remus crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"What are you driving at?"

"The arrangement Molly, Arthur and I had concerning Ginny and Ron was that they could remain at Grimmauld Place for the rest of the holidays if it's too difficult for the Weasleys to have to change between the Burrow and back. But you have to keep in mind that wherever Harry is lies also one of the focuses of Voldemort's attention. Taking him away from the protection of his blood-relatives is dangerous, so I agree to let him stay here under the condition that he leaves Grimmauld Place as soon as I say it is too dangerous for him to stay here."

That brought a deep frown onto Remus' face.

"Leave for where? Back to those muggles?"

"One possibility is bringing him back to the Dursleys, yes. The other is bringing him to Hogwarts. Those are the only places where he'll be relatively safe without a guard."  
Remus shook his head, got up and walked over to lean against the kitchen counter.

"The only problem being that there is nobody else at Hogwarts who could keep him company, and also for the unlikely case that something unforeseen happens. I doubt that Severus is willing to do that. Though I doubt that the Weasley children or Hermione would let him go there alone, if it comes to that. That and one Order member would be a sufficient protection in the castle."

"I understand what you mean. And should it come to the point where you say that Harry has to leave Grimmauld Place, I will go with him to Hogwarts."

"I know that you see him as your responsibility, not only because you were the one who took him out of the hospital, but also because you care deeply for him. But it might be better to cross that bridge when we come to it. Should it come to the moment when Harry has to leave, we will see who is best suited for the task at this particular moment. I do care about Harry's feelings, but his physical safety is paramount. If he falls into Voldemort's hands, his emotional welfare is the smallest problem, anyway."

Remus nodded and got up.

"I understand. Thank you, Albus. I'd better get Harry's things upstairs now."


	7. Arrival

**Chapter 07 – Arrival**

Harry didn't know what he had imagined living at Grimmauld Place to be like, but somehow this was different from anything he had imagined. Definitely different from last year, when Ron and Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny had been here. Though Harry had not been in the best of moods at that time either, his friends' presence had clearly made living here more easy. This summer, the house was cleaned up and each room had been inhabitable for quite some time now. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley always found time for a quick chat with him of course, and Remus also spend some time each day with him sitting in the downstairs kitchen, but apart from that, Harry was feeling rather alone.

And one thing that had not changed with his moving to Grimmauld Place – and in all honesty he had not expected it to change – were the nightmares. Nearly every night, Harry relived the events in the Death Chamber, nearly every night he woke up, drenched in sweat and his heart beating so fast that he thought it would burst. The image of Sirius being hit by Bellatrix Lestrange's spell, the astonished look on his godfather's face as he stumbled backwards and fell through the archway, had burned themselves into Harry's brain and surfaced again and again at night, when there was nothing he could do to keep them at bay. He didn't tell anybody about it, though, and neither did he ask anybody for a potion that would stop him from dreaming. That was just the way it was now, he would have to live with those nightmares and hope that they subsided in time. At least he wasn't at Privet Drive anymore, that was really everything he could ask of Remus and the Weasleys. The rest would fall in place soon enough, Harry was sure of that.

There was a constant coming and going in the house, but all of that were visits that concerned the Order. Harry's presence in the house was tolerated in a friendly way, but he was perfectly aware that he was supposed to stay away from all the adult meeting which mostly took place in the kitchen. It angered him, still, despite what had happened last year. Harry simply could not get rid of the feeling that he still didn't know everything he ought to know, that there were still revelations hidden from him. And Harry still didn't know what exactly Voldemort and the Death Eaters had done after he had left Hogwarts. The war had started, but what did that mean? Had there been attacks? He had not read anything in the _Daily Prophet_, but that didn't necessarily have to mean anything. More than once Harry had wanted to ask Remus, but had always stopped himself. His former teacher was looking more and more stressed and strained, the dark rings under his eyes hinting at a couple of sleepless nights in the least. Harry didn't know how much of it had to do with Remus' lycanthropy. Full moon had been a bit more than a week after Harry had arrived. Remus had vanished for the night, but as he had already looked pale and haggard before he had left, there had not been much difference to his pale and haggard appearance after he returned the next evening. Ever since Harry had known him, Remus had looked ill at times, depending on the phase of the moon, but this had worsened remarkably over the past weeks. Even now, over a week after the full moon, Remus looked just as bad as he had done directly before his transformation. Harry was worried about Remus, but there was nothing he could do as long as he didn't know what exactly was wrong with his former teacher. He didn't want to ask anybody, though. It were Remus' private matters, Harry had no right to pry there. But he guessed that Remus, too, was still grieving for Sirius. After all, Remus and his godfather had been close friends, so Harry guessed that the events in the Death Chamber still bothered him one way or another. Whatever the reason for his bad physical condition, Remus surely had enough on his mind without Harry's worries about Voldemort, so whenever they talked in the kitchen, Harry always restrained himself from coming to the topic of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

He could have possibly asked Tonks, from all the people in the Order aside from Remus and the Weasleys, she was the one he liked most with her cheerful and open attitude. But Tonks was not at headquarters often, Harry had only seen her once or twice during all his stay here. From what she told, she was extremely busy at work at the moment, as were all the Aurors and the entire DMLE. Not only Tonks, but also Kingsley hardly found the time to drop by at headquarters.

There were still five weeks till the start of his sixth year at Hogwarts, one week till his birthday. A strange thought to celebrate it for the first time, here and under these circumstances. Mrs. Weasley had assured him that the younger children would come from the Burrow today, and Harry found himself waiting anxiously for their arrival. True, all in all it was far better staying here at Grimmauld Place than his with his aunt and uncle, but Ron might be able to distract him from his brooding. And maybe the tension which hung thickly in the air all over the house would loosen a bit. Besides, it would good to see different faces again. That was why Harry was extremely glad to finally hear well-known voices on the corridor outside his room.

"Merlin, Ron", Bill's panting voice sounded. "What did you pack into that trunk? Stones?"

"You could as well levitate the bloody thing. It's not my fault that I'm still not allowed to do any magic during the holidays."

"If Mum hears you talking like that, she'll be scrubbing your mouth with soap, no matter that you're sixteen already."

A moment later the door to Harry's room was opened and Ron came through, followed by a very red-faced and panting Bill. The oldest Weasley son was carrying his youngest brother's trunk in front of him and let it fall to the floor with a loud _thud_ as soon as he had reached the empty bed. Ron threw a scolding look in Bill's direction, then he grinned at Harry.

"Harry, hello! How are you, mate?"

For a fleeting moment Harry asked himself how much Ron knew about his suspected 'suicide' and his stay in hospital, and whether his friend was being cheerful on purpose. But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside.

"Fine Ron, it's good to see you." He clasped a hand on Ron's shoulder, then stretched the other out towards Bill.

"Bill, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Though it really drives one nuts to play nursemaid for Ron and Ginny all the time."

He grinned, then shrugged as he shook Harry's hand firmly. Bill had not changed much since they had last met. His red hair was still long and tied into a ponytail, and the silver ring with the long tooth was still dangling from his right ear. Harry didn't know how old exactly the oldest Weasley son was, but the only thing that had really changed about him, the only thing which betrayed how much he was also involved in the worrisome war and Order-business were the lines around his eyes. They made him look older, far more mature than the last time Harry had met him.

With a grin Bill challenged Ron to say anything else about him dropping the trunk, then he nodded at the two and left the room with a cheerful "Until later!".

Ron opened his trunk, but instead of unpacking he let himself fall backwards onto his bed.

"Where are the twins and Ginny? And what about Hermione?"

Ron sighed and turned around on the bed.

"Hermione came to the Burrow yesterday evening. She and Ginny came along with Bill, Charlie and me. I guess they'll be up here once they're rid of Charlie and have finished unpacking. I can tell you, ever since Mum and Dad asked him to help them out with looking after us, he has turned into a nursemaid. 'Time to go to bed.' 'Do your homework.' 'Eat your vegetables.' As if we still need babysitting! But anyway. The twins are in their store mostly, but they wanted to drop by in a couple of days."

"What about Percy?"

Ron shrugged and did his best to look indifferent, but it was not hard for Harry to see behind the façade and realize that the topic mattered more to Ron than he dared to admit.

"Dad has seen him at the Ministry once or twice, but that's all. And even then Percy simply ignored his existence. It still makes Mum and Dad pretty angry every time it happens, but…", he shrugged awkwardly. "There's nothing we can do about it now. Percy's a git. Maybe he'll come around, but I don't think that'll be anytime soon. Don't know if it'll ever be the same again even if he does. It's been over a year now that he freaked out, that's a lot of time."

He waved with his hand to sign that he didn't want to talk about that anymore. "What about you? I didn't think you'd be here already, I have to admit. Did anything happen?"

Harry looked completely befuddled for a moment.

"Your parents didn't tell you?"

"Didn't tell me what? They only told us this morning that you were already at Grimmauld Place, but nothing else. Why, did something happen?"

Harry was spared the answer for the moment when there was a knock on the door and Hermione came into the room. She was still wearing muggle clothes with her wand nowhere in sight, but then again Hermione would probably be the last person to break the restrictions on underage magic. Harry wouldn't want to go through something like his hearing last summer again, either, but nevertheless he always carried his wand around these days. Voldemort was back, and he'd rather face another hearing or even expulsion from Hogwarts than being unarmed in case of any unforeseen confrontation.

Hermione smiled broadly when she saw Harry and hurried across the room to give him a bone-crushing embrace as a greeting.

"Harry, it's so good to see you! How are you?"

"Good to see you, too, Hermione. I'm fine, though I'm glad to see the two of you. It was getting rather boring here alone after a couple of days."

Hermione stepped back a little and frowned.  
"Why are you here already anyway? Ron and I thought we'd have to pester his parents for days to even make them consider asking Professor Dumbledore if you could come here."

For a moment Harry contemplated not to tell his friends about what had happened to bring him here. He didn't know why, but somehow he felt uncomfortable with their possible reactions. Especially Hermione worried enough about him without the knowledge that Sirius' death was still wearing hard on him. His hesitation caused another frown to run across Hermione's forehead, only Ron didn't notice anything out of the ordinary yet.

"I was asking him the same thing when you came in."

But Hermione didn't even look at Ron, she kept her eyes on Harry.

"Harry, is anything wrong?"

Harry scratched his head and pulled a face. No matter that he didn't want his friends to worry, he also didn't want them to be told about his attempt at potions brewing from somebody else. But telling Ron and Hermione didn't mean he wanted to make an announcement for just about everybody.

"Where is Ginny?"

"She went into the kitchen with Bill and Charlie, I believe. Why, shall I fetch her?"

Harry quickly shook his head.

"No, actually I don't want her to know. Not really. I…", he shrugged and sat down on his bed. "You'll get to know it anyway, so I can as well tell you. I asked Remus to bring me here, I didn't want to stay at Privet Drive any longer."

"Remus?", Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Professor Lupin", Harry explained.

"I know that Remus is Professor Lupin's name", Hermione huffed. "I was just wondering why you call him by his first name all of a sudden. And why did he bring you here? I can't imagine that it's been so easy to get you here, didn't Professor Dumbledore want you to stay with your relatives because it's safest there?"

"Remus asked me to stop calling him Professor. And actually it wasn't all that easy, but I think circumstances convinced Professor Dumbledore that I was not exactly happy there."

"What circumstances?"

Harry breathed in deeply before he answered. It was embarrassing enough that everybody at Grimmauld place knew what had transpired, but telling Ron and Hermione about the reasons for his stay in hospital was even worse. Especially since they would want to know the reasons for his failed attempt at potions brewing. "I was in hospital. I…I was having nightmares, and I wanted to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Well, I think we can now be completely and entirely sure that I have no talent whatsoever at potions brewing. My relatives brought me to the hospital, and there I asked Remus to take me here if possible. He did."

Harry shrugged as if there was hardly anything to the story, but when he looked up he found two very shocked faces looking back at him.

"Oh, Harry", Hermione said when she finally found her voice again. "A Dreamless Sleep Potion? That's really advanced potions brewing, why didn't you just ask anybody for help? You could have seriously harmed yourself with that stuff."

Harry shrugged again. "I know that now. I really didn't want to bother anybody, and I thought that I could somehow brew that potion if Snape was not there to constantly yell at me. It didn't really work, that much you don't need to tell me."

"And for how long are you here already?"

"A bit more than two weeks. And it really got boring after a while. Everybody has got things to do except from me, so I've been sitting up here mostly, trying to get my homework finished. Or sometimes downstairs in the kitchen with Remus, when there wasn't another meeting going on."

"Speaking of kitchen", Hermione said. "I think dinner will be ready in a couple of moments. Mrs. Weasley said so when we arrived."

Ron immediately got up from where he had been sitting on his bed and went over towards the door.

"Great, I'm starved. Charlie might be the number one in mothering people, but he's an absolute failure where his cooking is concerned."

While he already vanished out of the door, Hermione looked at Harry with a concerned gaze.

"Are you all right? And if you just give me another shrug as an answer, you'll see me getting angry."

Harry immediately relaxed the muscles in his shoulders to prevent himself from shrugging again.

"I don't know, really. I'm fine, I think. Better at least, since I've been out of Privet Drive."

But Hermione just looked at him with the same expression of concern for another moment.

"Well, obviously you were having nightmares, and not just once or twice. Otherwise you would not have tried to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion at all. What…I don't want to pry, but how…how are you…I mean, about what happened to Sirius…?"

Harry bit his lip to forcefully fight down the emotions that were threatening to spill over. If there was one thing about the whole situation he had not gotten used to yet, then it was being reminded of his godfather's death without the chance to prepare for it. He shook his head.

"Not now, Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "All right. I just…I just want you to know that I'm there if you want to talk. Ron, too, though you know how he is. He'd never say it, but he's always there for you, you know that."

"I know, thanks. But not just yet."

"Good. And now we should maybe get downstairs before Ron has finished our dinner for us."

"Sounds like a good idea. I'm starved."

They headed out of the door and down the two flights of stairs into the dark entrance hall. As silently as possible so that they would not wake up the portrait of Mrs. Black, the two of them went over towards the stairs that led into the basement kitchen. The smell of food greeted them already before they opened the door. Ron was already seated at the kitchen table, a plate with food in front of him. He did not even seem to notice that his two friends had entered the kitchen. Harry turned towards Hermione.

"Did his brothers starve him or what?"

Hermione just shook her head and went over towards the stove where Mrs. Weasley was already filling plates with meatballs and mashed potatoes for them. They both thanked her and sat down next to Ron, who still didn't pay them any mind. He looked up shortly, but quickly focussed his attention back on his food again. Harry shook his head, then decided that he should long ago have given up wondering about his best friend's relation to food, and started on his own dinner. As Ron would not be good for any kind of conversation until he had finished his dessert, Harry turned his attention towards the other people in the room. Aside from Harry and his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Charlie there was only Remus in the kitchen with them. He was listlessly picking around on his own plate while he listened to whatever story Bill was currently telling. Though he only seemed to follow it half-heartedly, Harry realized. Once more, Harry could not help but worry about what exactly was going on with his former teacher. This was definitely not how Remus had behaved at any point during the time he had known him. True, he had never really spent much time with him before the last summer, but still Harry thought this kind of behaviour slightly unusual for the otherwise so attentive man.

After they had finished their dinner, Harry, Ron and Hermione carried their empty plates over towards the sink where Mrs. Weasley put a cleansing charm on them. Harry noticed that Remus had not eaten very much of his dinner, but had rather vanished the remaining half with a vanishing spell. He shook his head, but before he could even contemplate asking somebody if they knew what was wrong with Remus, Ron's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Isn't there any dessert?"

Harry and Hermione synchronously turned their heads towards their friend, and from the table Charlie, Bill and Remus were chuckling loudly. Mrs. Weasley on the other hand didn't seem to find that remark very funny.

"You have just eaten enough for two people of your age, I should think you can go without dessert for a day or two."

Ron mumbled something about being in the middle of a growth spurt, but seemed to know that he had lost this particular battle against his mother. The three of them sat down on the table again.

"Do you already have any plans for this evening?"

Harry first looked at Ron and Hermione, then at Remus who had posed the question. He shook his head.

"Not really. Catching up for a bit, I think."

"Recovering from the dictatorship of Charlie and Bill", Ron added. That earned him a swat to the back of his head from Charlie who was just walking past the table behind him.

"Ouch, that hurt!"

"You're not made of glass. And you've just stuffed your head with about a ton of food, that should cushion the impact."

Ron huffed in exasperation.

"I mean, you were not exactly applying for the title of parent of the year, you know? That _was_ a dictatorship you were trying to build up."

Bill just shook his head and took another sip of his coffee. "You're just angry that we didn't allow you to help the twins in their store."

"And right you were!", Mrs. Weasley added from where she was putting away the dishes. "It's bad enough that the two of them are wasting their time with that dangerous stuff, they should not try to involve any of their siblings in it."

"Would have been more fun that sitting at home listening to Bill and Charlie's lectures all day."

Bill and Charlie wisely decided not to comment on that remark, and Harry was glad for it. If they started bickering know, Merlin only knew when they would stop again. Remus, however, seemed to find the remark about Fred and George's joke shop highly amusing. The first real smile Harry had seen from him in days showed on his face and he quickly turned his head away so that Mrs. Weasley would not see it. Harry could imagine very well that his former teacher liked the idea of the twins' joke shop. Though Harry had never seen it in him, he must have been a prankster just like his father and Sirius once had been. Harry forced himself to stop that line of thought before his mood worsened again. It was good to see Remus smile again, but it definitely was not good to think about Sirius now.

The best thing might be to take his own words to heart and occupy his thoughts with catching up with his friends. It had not been that long that he had not seen Ron and Hermione, but still there surely were things to talk about for them.

They remained sitting in the kitchen even after they had finished dinner, Remus had gone upstairs again and Mrs. Weasley had cleared away the dishes. Ron had eventually given up all hopes for dessert and had settled on drinking of the hot chocolate Mrs. Weasley made them. Indeed Harry had been right with his assumption, not all that much had happened since he and his friends had parted ways four weeks ago. Hermione had arrived at the Burrow the day before yesterday, and probably she would go on another vacation with her parents towards the end of the holidays.

"They say they're not seeing me often enough lately", she said. "Of course they understand it when I stay at school during the holidays if I have to learn, but still they say they want to spend a bit more time with me. But they'll send an owl in a week or so, I wanted to be here for your birthday."

She smiled brilliantly at Harry. "You'll have the first real birthday party this year, isn't that great?"

Harry hadn't given the issue much thought, but now that Hermione mentioned it, he had to admit that he didn't immediately feel enthusiastic about the idea. A few weeks ago maybe, but he definitely didn't feel in the mood for celebrating now.

"Yeah, sounds great. Though I haven't really planned anything. I don't know, we'll see."

But Hermione was not to be stopped in her excitement.

"I think that a party is a wonderful idea. I mean with the people you know from the Order, as I think it should be difficult to get your other friends here without giving away too much about the Order. But still, if we involve the twins we should be able to make a great party out of it."

Ron grinned widely. "I bet that together with Sirius the twins would have thrown the most amazing birthday party for you! But even on their own they should manage."

Ron didn't realize how Harry's expression darkened at those words or how Hermione threw her most deadly glare into his direction. His attention was distracted from his friends as Mrs. Weasley harrumphed loudly at his words.

"I bet they would have, and it's good that this won't happen. It's bad enough that your brothers have to engage in all this joke-business, no matter how successful they might be at the moment. They didn't need somebody who even encouraged that, life is too serious to see it as a constant joke. At a certain age people should realize that, or they get what's coming at them!"

The remark was clearly aimed at Sirius, and Harry felt his anger swell immediately. Why did Mrs. Weasley have to say those things over and over again, even now that Sirius was dead? He quickly downed his hot chocolate, put it on the kitchen counter and turned towards the door.

"I'm tired, I think I'll call it a night."

Hermione threw him a concerned glance, but Harry shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it now. Ron seemed to be blissfully ignorant of Harry's sudden change of mood. Harry quickly went up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with Ron. He only hoped that Ron would stay in the kitchen for a bit longer, he didn't really fancy company at the moment.

Five minutes later, though, there was a knock on his door. It wasn't Ron, he would not have knocked, but still it was somebody who had come to disturb Harry's brooding. And he didn't know if he wanted that.

"Come in."

The door opened, and much to his surprise it was not Hermione or Mrs. Weasley who came into the room, but Bill. The oldest Weasley brother came into the room and closed the door behind himself. Harry remained sitting on the bed, puzzled as to what Bill wanted of him.

"You vanished rather quickly just now", Bill said and sat down on the foot end of the bed. Harry shrugged.

"I wasn't in the mood for staying."

"Because of what Mum said?"

Again, Harry shrugged and leaned back against the headboard.

"I just don't like it when people talk about Sirius like that. And your Mum does it rather often."

Bill sighed and ran his hand through his hair, messing up his ponytail and refastening it again.

"Don't take it personally, Harry. It has nothing to do with you, and I'm sure she doesn't know you take it to heart so much, otherwise she'd watch what she's saying."

"Can I ask you something?"

Bill nodded.

"Sure."

"What is it that made your Mom so angry with Sirius? Nobody tells me."

Bill sighed and leaned back against the bed. Unconsciously, he ran his hand through his hair again and loosened some more strands of hair from the ponytail.

"Why do you want to know?"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. I…I always liked your mum. I mean, she did a lot for me, and not because I was Harry Potter or something, but simply because she cared for me. I didn't have that ever before, and I'm really thankful for it. But I can't help the feeling that she didn't like Sirius. She and he were fighting a lot last year, and now that Sirius is…now that he is dead, I don't know what to think of it. She doesn't care about him and…and it hurts. I overheard Remus talking to her, and your Mum said something about your Dad and you, and that it was Sirius' fault that something happened to you."

"I see", Bill said and stretched out his legs more comfortably. His earring sparkled in the light as he shifted around.

"Harry, Mum cares for you, very deeply. As far as she is concerned, you are an honourable Weasley already and nothing can change that. Every long-lost godfather who suddenly reappeared would have a hard time with her. She had the feeling that he was intruding in her territory when he suddenly appeared and wanted to take care of you. She sees that as her task, because she has done so when there was still nobody else around who could take that position for you."

"I know, and I don't want to say that I'm not thankful for what she did for me. I really am. I didn't know Sirius very well, but from all that I heard I knew he was not always easy to get along with, but there is more to the story, isn't there?"

"Yes, there is. You see, Mum and Sirius were just too different from each other to ever agree on something. They would not have met under normal circumstances though they're distantly related, but they were in the Order of the Phoenix during the first war. And there they collided, more often than would have been good. I was eleven or twelve years old at that time, Mum and Dad didn't want me involved in anything, but with five children and the war raging around them they could not keep me out of everything. Mum and Sirius clashed a couple of times back then already. And they clashed hard, no small wonder with two so hot tempers as theirs. He was the reckless young Auror who was willing to risk nearly everything in order to win the war, to fight for what he considered good. And Mum was constantly worried about Dad and us, about the possible future, and she could not understand how Sirius was not concerned about safety all that much. It just didn't work between them. And then one of Sirius' plans backfired, that was the point where it cracked completely between them."

"What happened?", Harry asked.

"Don't ask me for the details, I was never told. But basically Sirius had planned a trap for the Lestranges in one of the safe-houses the Order regularly used. Catching Bellatrix and Rudolphus was something of a personal vendetta for Sirius."

"Because she is his cousin", Harry supplied. Bill nodded.

"Exactly. It was as if he needed to prove himself by catching her and her husband. As if he needed to prove himself that the only relation he had with them were distant blood ties, and nothing else. That he was different than them, that he stood on the other side during this war. Remus once told me that, I didn't know Sirius well enough to understand his reasons back then. Sirius' family was constantly haunting him, his life was one big attempt to get away from what the name 'Black' meant to most people. It seemed to border on an obsession for him, and my mother more than once accused him that he was endangering others with his plans. She thought that he was so blinded by his family issues that he'd get one of us killed by accident. But he never listened, especially not with how strained their relationship was, anyway.

But to come back to the topic, Sirius told Mad Eye about his plan to trap the Lestranges. Mad Eye supported Sirius' idea and they set the plan in motion. The only problem was that nobody told my Dad about it. Actually, it was not a necessity to inform him, he was not usually using the safe-houses for anything, if at all then he was at our headquarters that time.

But that day Dad caught me sneaking around headquarters – it wasn't Grimmauld Place back then, it was a much smaller house. I had been supposed to stay with Charlie, Percy and the twins, but I didn't. I wanted to know what was going on, thought I could help the adults. I was only twelve or so, but I thought I had it in me to save the world."

Bill laughed mirthlessly. "It seems strange to say that to you of all people, sorry. But that was how I felt back then. I knew a bit of magic from my first year of Hogwarts and thought it was enough to help the adults. Only, nobody ever told me anything. Well, Dad caught me as I was just about to stick my nose into confidential papers. He wanted to give me a good telling off about it, but he didn't want to do it in front of Mum – I think he didn't want me to get into just _that_ much trouble as she would have given me. And as there was no way for him to do so in headquarters, he packed me up and flooed me to one of the safe-houses which he thought empty."

"The one where Sirius had planned on trapping the Lestranges."

Bill nodded, a crooked grin on his face.

"Yes. And he had a very good sense of timing. We landed there too late to betray the trap but also way before the danger was over. We actually landed in the middle of flying curses and caused quite an uproar. It's a small wonder that nobody got hurt, and looking back at it I know why Mum freaked so much. It was ridiculously dangerous what we slid into. I didn't understand it back then, but desperation was at its peak. Order plans were betrayed more often than they actually worked out, and a well-laid trap for Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband suddenly became a battle between eight Order members and about fifteen Death Eaters, and Dad and me right in the middle of it. I don't remember anything clearly, but it must have been pandemonium with everybody just trying to get out before the Death Eaters overwhelmed us. The next thing I remember clearly is being back at headquarters with Dad standing pale and shaking next to me. There was no way we could keep what happened from Mum, and as the trap had been Sirius' plan it was painfully obvious whom she'd blame for what nearly happened. Dad and I never blamed anybody for it, especially not Sirius. If anybody, we should have blamed Dung because it had been his job to inform us not to use the safe-house. He didn't because he thought we never used it, anyway.

But Mum was angry when she heard about it, and she placed the blame on Sirius. Maybe she somehow _wanted_ to blame him, at least a bit. It ended with both of them yelling at each other and my Dad and your father trying to step in between and to pull them apart. That was the final braking point, after that Mum never warmed up with Sirius again. She accused him of being too careless, that he only thought about himself and his own success and that he was willing to sacrifice us all for his own fame.

I don't know how she thought about his imprisonment, I don't know if she really thought he was guilty. But then again, nobody really thought all that much about whether what the Ministry told us what happened was true. I think when Sirius suddenly came into your life again she was afraid that he would take up her position. Or that he would endanger you. Probably a bit of both."

Harry nodded, not really knowing what to make of all that. Bill got up from the bed.

"Don't be angry with her, Harry. Mum cares deeply for you, and even if she was not always right with what she did or said, it only happened because she wants the best for you. After all, you're part of the family."

He smiled at Harry and turned towards the door.

"Thank you, Bill."

"You're welcome. Just don't brood too much about it."

Harry nodded. "I'll try."

But as Bill left the room and went downstairs again, Harry could not chase away the thoughts about what he had just been told, at least not immediately. Of course it explained why Mrs. Weasley and Sirius hadn't gotten along, but that didn't make any of what she had said better. Ron's mother was not being fair, and Harry didn't know what to make of it. And about that he'd probably keep on brooding for a bit longer.


	8. Night Time Horrors

**Chapter 08 – Night Time Horrors**

_A man silently walked down the narrow and dark street, the hood of his robe drawn to prevent the constant drizzle of rain from soaking him any further. In the still rather cold April evening air his breaths were forming small white clouds in front of his mouth as he strode down the alley in fast steps. Next to him a slightly taller and broader man was walking wrapped up equally tight in his cloak, setting their pace with his long strides. They had not spoken to each other during the past minutes, too wrapped up had they been on getting to their destination, because the sooner they reached it, the sooner they'd get out of this weather, but now the taller of the two men broke the silence._

_"Trust Dumbledore to give that assignment to us, especially in this weather. If I didn't know better, I'd say he wants us to catch pneumonia."_

_Remus Lupin chuckled lightly and shook his head at his friend's pessimistic view on things. Truly, he could have imagined something better to occupy himself with today as well, but he was also very much aware of the limited resources the Order was having. If there was a task to be done, there was no use in complaining about it and trying to shift the responsibility over to somebody else. Especially if it was an as promising but also as risky a task as theirs today. But he didn't say it out loud, he knew that Sirius understood it despite his words. In truth Sirius would probably not have wanted anybody else to do this, anyway. Sirius defined himself by what he could actively do, he had never been somebody to sit around and let others do the work._

_"You could have tried that water-repelling charm for your robes, Sirius, then you wouldn't be that uncomfortable now."_

_Sirius grunted something as a response, too low even for Remus' hearing to catch it. He only hoped that Sirius would not catch a cold in this weather, not so much because he was overly worried for his friend's health, but because he knew that Sirius would be insufferable if he only got as much as a sneeze by this evening._

_As they reached the end of the narrow street in one of London's most unpleasant parts, Sirius suddenly stopped and gestured for Remus to halt behind him. When he turned towards his childhood-friend, Remus could see that Sirius' face had taken on an emotionless and attentive expression, one that always showed on his face when he was entirely focussed on his work._

_"Now, see that old warehouse over there, Remus?" He gestured to an old and run down building a couple of houses down to their left. Remus nodded. "That's what Dumbledore was talking about."_

_Remus could not help but shudder a bit at the thought of what might be awaiting them there. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts but also – and during times of war like they were having now even more importantly – head of the resistance Order against Voldemort and his followers had many informants in the wizarding world. Not all of them were trustworthy, but in desperate times a resistance group like the Order of the Phoenix could hardly be picky about where their information had come from. They needed to be careful, and they could not trust any of their informants blindly, but if a piece of information seemed this interesting, they had to go check it out. And that was what Remus and Sirius were doing in this deserted street somewhere in an industrial suburb of London, trying to find out whether that inconspicuous empty warehouse was indeed one of the Death Eater hideouts that were spread all around the country._

_Of course Albus Dumbledore had not sent the two of them to go and interfere with anything that might be going on in there, they were solely there to find out if their information was true and maybe even _

_which Death Eaters were hiding out here. Surveillance duty, something Sirius had only grudgingly agreed to take over. The impulsive and often rash man simply wasn't somebody to sit around and watch, he always needed to have the feeling that he was doing something. Faced with the decision between being in a fight and keeping watch over something Sirius would always choose the fight, a thought that didn't particularly do anything good for Remus' peace of mind. But he knew that he could not change his friend, so he had learned to live with it. So far, they had been lucky and though the war had claimed far too many victims already, none of their close friends had been amongst them. Remus silently prayed that this would remain so._

_The reason why they were out here that particular night was that though Order members had managed to locate quite a number of high-ranking Death Eaters over the past months, certain celebrities in Voldemort's ranks were still out there causing havoc. If the order could only manage to finally prove that Lucius Malfoy and his clan were actively supporting the Dark Lord, or if they could eventually discover the location of the Lestranges, it would be a huge step into the right direction for the Order and the resistance, and word from their informant had it that the Lestranges were supposed to be using this hideout from time to time. That was mainly why Sirius and Remus were here that night – make sure that the building would be effectively but unobtrusively monitored from now on. They were here to plant the monitoring devices and to place the charms._

_The Order was short of trustful members who could be assigned with such a task, and so when Dumbledore had approached them Sirius and Remus had immediately agreed. Not that they would have declined anyway, both were far too engaged in the Order work to let others do it._

_Neither Sirius nor Remus needed to talk about what they'd have to do next anymore, they had been over it at headquarters at least five times. With a couple of well placed tracking and searching charms they made sure that no booby-traps were awaiting them and that nobody was hiding between the garbage cans or in empty doorways. Sirius carried an emergency portkey for them in case things went wrong nevertheless, but at the moment it was inactivated and resting in the pocket of his robe._

_Their revelation spells didn't show any trace of magical activity or any life forms in the building, but that didn't have to mean anything. It was already dark outside, and darkness was usually when the Death Eaters came out to play. Remus would have been surprised if they had found masses of people in the building at this time even if it was the London hideout._

_While Remus placed a couple of surveillance and monitoring charms and devices on the buildings behind him Sirius carefully crossed the street to do the same. The whole action took only a couple of minutes, and once they had done the same on the other side of the building they would be set to leave again. With a nod of his head Remus signalled Sirius that he was finished, and both set off to get to the other side of the building._

_They had not made it halfway through the alley, moving from shadow to shadow when suddenly Remus' sensitive hearing picked up a muffled incarnation from far behind and above them, and acting purely on instinct he grabbed Sirius around the shoulders and pulled him to the floor. Before the startled Sirius even had a chance to realize what was happening, a green flash of light shot through the air where his back had been only moments earlier._

_"Fuck!"_

_The two of them scrambled into the partial security behind a large garbage dumpster as around them a hell broke loose. Curses were shouted from everywhere around them, be it the flat rooftops of the empty warehouses or closing in from the two ends of the alley around them. They were trapped._

_"Fuck!", Sirius repeated while he was fumbling in his pocked for their emergency portkey, "It's a trap! How did they bloody know about it?"_

_"I don't know", Remus repeated from where he was trying to deflect curses and shoot his own spells over the top of the dumpster, "but I'd rather have you find that portkey and get us out of here now!"_

_"A moment, a moment, all right?"_

_"Hurry!"_

_Remus guessed that it were about ten Death Eaters advancing on them, and though they were partially shielded behind their cover, they also had no way to escape their attackers other than the portkey._

_"Got it!"_

_Remus ducked down to avoid a curse hitting him and Sirius stretched out his hand towards him. On his palm was an old-fashioned muggle key – trust Sirius to take the smallest available item as an emergency portkey – and Remus immediately placed his finger on it. Sirius did the same and waved his wand over the portkey to activate it._

_Five seconds later they were still sitting behind the garbage dumpster, and they were still being shot at by Death Eaters._

_"It's not working!"_

_There was a slight note of panic in Remus' voice, but Sirius didn't answer. Instead he waved his wand a couple of times over the portkey, then threw it away with a groan._

_"It's blocked! They bloody blocked this bloody place for portkeys!"_

_This was not good. Definitely not good._

_Both simultaneously raised their wands and attempted to apparate out, but Remus had already guessed that if the Death Eaters knew about the Order sending a pair to investigate and blocked the area against portkeys, they'd also ward it with an anti-apparition field. That's what their portkeys were for, actually. Anti-apparition wards were far easier to construct and hold up than portkey blocks, and thus were used far more often._

_But no portkey and no apparition meant that there was no way out except from fighting their way through a bunch of Death Eaters who outnumbered them at least five to one. Bloody great!_

_Remus was starting to feel a little breathless._

_"What now?"_

_"We don't have much choice, I'd say. We have to fight us through."_

_Remus nodded, though he didn't like it. He was quite a good dueller, but he preferred to avoid having to use that skill whenever he could. But right now, it obviously couldn't be avoided._

_Remus nodded at Sirius, both tensing in their crouch behind the dumpster._

_"You take the right side, I'll take the left. Watch the roofs."_

_"All right." Remus took one last deep breath to steel himself, and with another look at Sirius both jumped up behind the dumpster and began to shoot their own curses, hoping to even their numbers out at least a bit more._

_Remus as well as Sirius stuck to the method of stunning rather than killing their opponents so that those could be arrested and interrogated later on, and Remus only hoped that he would not have to kill even as a last resort to save his own life. How ridiculous would it be for him to kill somebody as a human after years and years of taking care that he didn't harm anybody during full moon nights. That was his general view on actively partaking in Order activities, but right now he did not have the time to think about something like that._

_Their opponents seemingly felt safe due to their number against only two opponents, but that also made them careless. They did not expect an attack from the two outnumbered Order members, so when Remus and Sirius suddenly jumped out from behind the garbage dumpster they were not sufficiently prepared. Two of them did not get the chance to prepare themselves, they were stunned and disarmed before they even knew what was happening, but that was about as much as Remus and Sirius got from their moment of surprise._

_His heart beating fast in his throat, Remus quickly moved away from the garbage dumpster and towards his right. His eyes roamed over the rooftops on his side, but he could detect no movement from above despite his good night-vision. The Death Eaters had taken cover as well, but Remus knew that they were advancing on them and only waiting for a moment to strike. It was a bit like playing hide and seek, Remus thought, and immediately scolded himself for letting his thoughts drift like that in such a perilous situation. Movement caught his eye and he quickly ducked and shot a Full-Body-Bind into the direction from where he had seen the movement. From his left, a curse flashed by his shoulder. Remus knew that it had thrown just enough light for his opponents to know where he was, so he aimlessly cursed ahead twice or thrice, then retreated back into the direction of the garbage dumpster._

_He could no longer see Sirius, to his left he saw lights flash by in the short seconds he dared to look away. At least that meant Sirius was still standing._

_"Remus! Above you!"_

_Remus spun around and aimed his wand up just in time to see a slightly darker shadow move along the edge of the dark-grey roof._

_"Stupefy!"_

_The fall from the roof and the following landing had probably not been comfortable for the Death Eater, but Remus was already moving backwards again, trying to lure one of the remaining Death Eaters into the open. Three or four still had to be standing at least, and he could not duel that many at once. He'd have to take them out one after another, hoping that none of them would get him first._

_Suddenly, something moved along behind the rows of old cardboard boxes to his right. Normal people might not have heard it, but Remus' sensitive lycanthropic hearing caught the sound of something moving, scratching against the cardboard. Approaching him._

_He tensed, gripped his wand tighter and kept his eyes firmly trained on the closest of the many places the other Death Eaters could hide behind here in the alley. His hearing was all the while focussed on the one who was approaching him. Slowly, ever so slowly, Remus brought his wand towards the place where the Death Eater would be shortly before he had to leave his cover behind the cardboard boxes. He breathed in deeply once and listened again. But the movement had stopped. Carefully, Remus balanced his weight on both his legs and then, suddenly and unexpectedly, like a cat jumping up a table, he moved forward to cut off the Death Eater's way and cursed._

_"Stupefy!"_

_The cardboard boxes blew up and flew into every direction, and as the red light subsided Remus saw the biggest rat he had ever seen lying unconscious between the boxes and the wall. Remus spun around and brought his wand up, sensing a presence behind himself._

_"Stupefy! Expelliarmus!"_

_Both curses must have hit the dark shadow advancing on him, because Remus heard the low 'thud' of a body falling to the concrete floor and he saw the wand slide into his direction. But from the corner of his eyes he realized that this had not been the only Death Eater advancing on him. Remus brought up his wand, but he already saw the flash of light shoot towards him. Instinctively, he moved to the side, but knew that he could not completely avoid being hit. The next thing Remus recalled happening was that he was forcefully thrown back against the concrete wall of the building behind him, the air knocked clearly out of his lungs. Gasping in pain, he brought his left hand up to his right arm and was not the least surprised when it came back covered in blood. Whatever spell had hit him, he was lucky that he had moved slightly to the side before he had been hit, otherwise it would have been his chest and not his arm which had been torn open. Still, his arm looked bad enough at first sight. His upper arm, forearm and the back of his hand were cut open and bleeding._

_But there was hardly anything he could do about it right now, and if those Death Eaters closed in on them then he'd not have to worry about anything anymore._

_With a huge effort, Remus got to his feet again and moved over to where Sirius had been standing. Only that Sirius was no longer standing there, Remus realized with a start._

_With wide eyes Remus watched as his ever too daring friend left his cover and now himself advanced on the remaining Death Eaters. Three were still standing as far as Remus could tell, and standing alone against them was ridiculously idiotic as far as Remus was concerned. He hurried to get to his friend's side when he suddenly saw Sirius raise his wand and a feeling of dread settled in his stomach. Remus knew that Sirius was powerful, but taking up three Death Eaters all on his own was not something he could imagine to end well._

_"Ondavem Desfortam!"_

_Stupid, Sirius! This is stupid, Remus thought. He was here, he would have come to Sirius' aid in a couple of beats, there simply had been no need for his friend to take the risk of such a dangerous and draining spell. Though Remus was quite proud of its effects. As if hit by a powerful wave, the three hooded men were thrown back and knocked against the walls behind them where they remained motionless. Sirius sank to his knees, pale and shaken, completely exhausted by the strong magic he had just performed. Remus broke into a run, but before he had crossed maybe half the distance to Sirius, a dark shadow towards his left knocked Sirius over from the side._

_"Sirius!"_

_It took Remus a moment to realize that he himself had been the one to shout his friend's name. The one Death Eater who was obviously left landed on top of the startled Sirius, who out of reflex more than anything else pulled up his knee to his chest and forcefully knocked the Death Eater away from him, then he quickly used the momentary advantage to knock the Death Eater's wand away. Remus allowed himself a glorious moment of relief when he heard the wood clatter on the wet street, but this relief truly only lasted a moment. _

_Eyes wide with horror Remus watched as the Death Eater pulled a dagger out of the folds of his robes and with a quick movement rammed it into Sirius' belly. Time seemed to slow down and Remus was too far away to do anything, too far away to intervene and save his friend, he had to watch helplessly how his friend's eyes widened in astonishment._

_With another blurred movement the Death Eater pulled the dagger out again, and finally Remus tore himself out of his stupor. He brought up his wand and fired a series of stunning- and immobilizing spells into the direction of the Death Eater, but missed him by a couple of inches. Anger and raw fear took over and Remus quickly added some of the most nasty and dangerous spells he remembered, but the Death Eater ducked down in time to avoid them. As Remus looked down his wand-arm he was astonished to see that his hand was shaking badly._

_The Death Eater was seemingly surprised to be faced with another opponent – one who was still standing, no less – and after what appeared to be a quick inner debate he turned around and vanished into the shadows, probably leaving the anti-apparition wards to apparate away. Remus didn't particularly care about the Death Eater at the moment, his eyes immediately searched out Sirius again._

_His friend had sunk to his knees and had both of his hands pressed against his belly, a completely shocked and bewildered expression on his face._

_In the dark street, Remus could not see much but his heart stopped a beat as he saw Sirius' eyes roll back in his head and Sirius fell limply to the floor._

_"Sirius!"_

_Remus started running and a moment later he reached the prone form of his friend, falling to his knees beside him._

_"Sirius! Can you hear me?"_

_Sirius didn't answer, but with quite some relief Remus noticed that his friend at least was still breathing._

_"Sirius, answer me! Talk to me, come on!" Gently, he slapped Sirius' cheeks but again received no reaction._

_With trembling hands Remus reached down and pulled Sirius' robe open. The shirt he wore underneath was already soaked with blood, and as Remus pulled the shirt up a gush of blood flowed over his hands out of the large wound that went all across Sirius' lower abdomen._

_This was not good, Remus thought in desperation. Sirius hadn't merely been stabbed, from the looks of it the Death Eater had nearly gutted him. The wound ran across Sirius' belly just below the navel and it looked deep. And judged by the amount of blood Sirius was losing, that bastard had hit something vital._

_"Oh Fuck! Sirius hold on, all right?"_

_Remus normally didn't curse, but right now he couldn't think of anything else to say. He was no healer, and thought being a werewolf had given him an ample theoretical knowledge about injuries and healings, his own abilities and especially practical experiences in healing were extremely limited. After all, when he had been badly injured after a transformation, he always had been unable to heal them himself. Remus was very competent to deal with small scratches and bruises, also with mending a broken bone if absolutely necessary, or countering curses that had gone wrong. But he could not heal a wound like that one, that was far beyond his abilities He didn't even know the appropriate spells to deal with an arterial bleeding. But he definitely needed to do something. With a bleeding as strong as this one, Sirius would not be able to hold on for much longer._

_Without really thinking about what he was doing Remus took the most desperate means he could think of, picked up his wand and sent an emergency signal._

_Usually when Order members were sent on a mission they always had a backup plan, and for cases when something went wrong they also carried an emergency Portkey. Sending and emergency signal like Remus had done it just now on the other hand made every single alarm at headquarters go off, telling the ones who were keeping watch there that something had gone seriously wrong and that they needed help immediately._

_Remus only hoped that somebody whit a bit of an expertise in healing magic was there. Albus or Andromeda would be able to help Sirius, heck, even Kingsley knew more about those things than Remus. A distant part of Remus' brain swore to remedy that situation and learn more about magical first aid as soon as this was over. If it wasn't too late by then, he'd never forgive himself if it was._

_"Lumos!"_

_In the dim light from the tip of his wand the wound looked even worse. A pool of blood was forming under Sirius' body, and the bright red blood was painting horrible patterns onto Sirius' pale skin._

_Sirius normally wasn't that pale, Remus noticed. He was losing too much blood, far too much blood._

_"Damn it Sirius, don't you do that to me!"_

_Not knowing what else he could do, Remus put his wand aside and pressed both of his hands onto the bleeding wound, wincing as the movement made a stab of pain shoot through his right arm. Looking down he found that his arm was covered in his own blood which was still oozing out of the wounds on his shoulder, upper arm and the back of his hand._

_But this was not the right time to contemplate his own injuries, he needed to help Sirius now. There was no danger to transmit his lycanthropy to Sirius by his blood, and that would have been the only reason to stop him from doing this. But pressing his hands down as hard as he dared to, Remus realized that he would not be able to stop the bleeding completely, no matter what he did._

_  
"Hold on Padfoot, all right? Just hold on."_

_There was no reaction from the prone man on the ground, but Remus realized that Sirius' breathing was getting more and more shallow._

_"No, don't you do that to me! Hear me, Padfoot? Don't you dare to give up now!"_

_Sirius' blood was flowing out beneath his fingers no matter how much he pressed against the wound and then suddenly Remus knew that Sirius would not survive until help arrived._

_Which was a possibility Remus would not even consider accepting._

_"Hold on, Sirius! You can't just die here, understand? I won't allow you to die here under my hands!"_

_Remus pressed down even harder, trying to still the flow of blood beneath his hands though he knew that what he was doing was futile. He was starting to feel slightly dizzy himself, something he was blaming on his own blood-loss. But his own injuries were really not important now, he needed to keep up for Sirius._

_Closing his eyes, Remus concentrated solely on the feeble and failing signs of life which were still coming from his friend's body. Sirius' breathing was hardly more than a weak movement of his chest, just above from where Remus' hands were pressing against the wound, and each of Sirius' weak heartbeats pressed more precious blood out of his body and over Remus' hands, but Remus willed them to continue, no matter that he knew how futile it was. He simply did not allow himself to accept that Sirius might stop breathing or that his heard might stop beating. Not if he could do anything to prevent it._

_'You can't die now!'_

_Remus didn't have the strength left to speak the words out aloud, but he kept repeating them over and over in his mind, just like a mantra._

_'Hold on, Sirius. Please don't die.'_

_His own breathing was getting faster and harsher and his head was starting to hurt badly, but he refused to let go now. A distant part of his brain was aware that what he was doing was hopeless anyway, and that he himself was clinging to consciousness by a very thin thread, but he forcefully pushed those thoughts into the back of his mind and desperately fought to stay awake._

_His body felt numb, only the feeling in his chest and arms was left, making them feel strangely warm._

_'Hold on, Sirius."_

_Why did it take the others so bloody long to come and help them? It felt as if he had sent the emergency signal hours ago, it surely could not take the others so long to react to it? Maybe nobody had been at headquarters when he had sent the signal. Though it was usually guarded twenty-four hours a day, it happened on occurrence that due to certain circumstances nobody was there. After all, they were not that many people in the Order, and though everybody was dedicated to their work, they all had private lives as well. James and Lily had a small child to take care of, most of the others had jobs and families as well, it could happen that something forced the ones who were on watch to leave headquarters unguarded at times. And if nobody had been there when Remus' emergency signal had come in…he didn't want to think about it._

_'Don't die on me here, Sirius. You have to stay with me, please!'_

_Though he had his eyes closed, Remus felt as if his head was spinning, and still he felt Sirius' blood flow out from beneath his fingers. He knew that his own wounds had to be bleeding as well, but he was too far gone to feel any pain. His only thoughts circled around Sirius and how he could possibly keep his friend alive for long enough._

_Sirius simply could not die. Not here, not now. They needed Sirius, and Remus simply could not imagine him dying right now. Not Sirius, not the one of his friends who had always found a way out so far, no matter how hopeless the situation had been. Not the one of them who had never even thought about giving up their fight against the darkness that threatened their world because he had been convinced to the core of his being that they were doing the right thing, no matter how futile it was. Doubts and fears had hardly ever been on Sirius' agenda. His death had never been._

_'Stay with me, Sirius. Please.'_

_Remus wasn't sure, but he thought that he had heard steps approaching. There were voices talking, weren't there? Whom were they talking to? Him? Or was this all only an illusion of his weary mind?_

_And what if those were the Death Eaters who had returned to finish what they had started? _

_Exhaustion was catching up rapidly with him, and even if there were Death Eaters approaching Remus knew he could not defend Sirius and himself anymore._

_From out of nowhere, strong arms suddenly wrapped themselves around his chest and pulled him away from Sirius. When had he fallen over his friend? Whoever had arrived was pulling him away from Sirius, and Remus had to realize that he was too weak to struggle against them. Didn't they understand that he had to keep on trying to limit Sirius' blood flow? Was Sirius still breathing? He had to control whether Sirius was still breathing, he needed to get to him now!_

_His breaths coming in short gasps, Remus tried at least to turn his head and open his eyes to see who was holding him back._

_"What in Merlin's name has happened here?"_

_"Remus? Remus, can you hear me?"_

_  
Somebody slapped his cheeks, but Remus barely felt it. He knew those voices from somewhere, but before he could even start to think about whom they belonged to, his weak grip on consciousness failed and everything went dark._

With a sharp intake of breath, Remus scared himself upright in his bed, sleep-blinded eyes straying around the dark room in search of something that would tell him where he was and what had happened. His heart was beating fast in his throat and his breathing was sharp and hitched. Sweat drenched his pyjamas and he struggled wildly to free himself from under the blankets which were wrapped tightly around his body and made him feel trapped. As his eyes slowly got accustomed to the light, he found himself in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. It took him a moment to realize what this meant, to realize that though what he had just dreamed had been real, it also lay fifteen years in the past now.

With a sound that was half-sigh, half-sob, Remus sank back into his pillow and tried to still his erratic breathing and heartbeat. It had happened again, just like last night and the night before. And the night before that. There had not been one night since Sirius' death through which he had slept without interruption. He could sympathize with what Harry had told him about his own nightmares and his desperate attempt to stop them. Though Remus had learned by now that nothing could stop the nightmares, nothing short of taking potions to sleep. And that prize would simply be too high.

But he would not be able to stand those nights for much longer, that much he knew. His body craved rest, and he simply did not get any as of late. Every night he woke up after only a few hours of sleep, scared awake by memories he would have rather forgotten. Strangely, it was not Sirius' death that was haunting him. Or maybe it wasn't all that strange, come to think of it. The moment of Sirius' death had been shocking and painful for Remus, but it had only been a few seconds. Far too short for Remus to immediately understand the implications of what was happening. He had known that Sirius was dead, but had not truly understood it at that time. There had never been a body he had seen, no physical evidence that his friend had died, only the knowledge that it had happened. But those seconds of Sirius' death had conjured up far more painful memories for Remus, memories of a night that had become traumatic for him. And they haunted him in his sleep.

It had been more than fifteen years ago now that he and Sirius had gotten into that Death Eater ambush, but powered by the pain Sirius' death had caused, those memories now held a power over Remus far stronger even than they had done even at the time when it had happened. Seeing and feeling the life leave his friend's body under his own hands had been a cruel and far worse experience than seeing him fall through that archway. Sirius had not died back then, he had survived the nearly fatal injury, but still those long minutes during which Remus had struggled to keep his friend amongst the living had etched themselves into his brain with a frightening intensity. And the pain they brought every time they surfaced became more and more unbearable. Back then he had managed to keep Sirius alive, but a few weeks ago there had been nothing he could have done. And now? Where was the sense in getting up every morning, in fighting this hopeless fight if all that ever came out of it were death and despair for those Remus cared for? He had not been able to do something against Sirius' death in the end, how could he imagine that anything he did would help them succeed against Voldemort? Remus had lost his hope that something good would ever come out of his life. So why was he still bothering to get up in the morning and run through his daily routine of doubting the sense in everything? He was only bothering everybody else with it, he was only causing problems.

With a weary sigh, Remus swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He could as well get up, he'd not be able to sleep anymore, anyway. He hardly ever could after the nightmares. The dreams stirred up too many thoughts which were going through his head. Too many memories, his own or what he had been told, all in all too many worries. He got up and took a shirt and a pair of trousers from the armchair next to his bed, then he silently walked over into the bathroom on the other side of the corridor. Normally, he'd have flinched upon seeing his pale and haggard features in the mirror above the sink. But after over a month of nearly sleepless nights, he had gotten used to the dark rings under his bloodshot eyes, the hollow cheeks and the listless expression in his eyes. So he merely splashed some cold water into his face, wiped it off with a towel and shrugged out of his sweaty pyjamas. He put on fresh clothes and brought the pyjamas back into his room, then he went downstairs into the basement kitchen. He'd make himself a cup of tea, and then he'd spend the rest of the night brooding over memories which he could not hold back. Just like every night. With another deep sigh, Remus set some water to boil, took a teapot and a few teabags and waited until he could prepare his tea.

As he sat down at the kitchen table with his cup a couple of minutes later, he tiredly leaned his head in his hand and stared down at the tabletop. Somewhere to his right, drops of water slowly fell from the tap and into the sink as he sat there and brooded.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.


	9. Memories

Sorry for the delay. Sometimes, the good and the bad in life lie very close together, and both of it kept me occupied ever since the week before Christmas. So while I maybe had the time, I often didn't have the mind to go and update the story. Sorry for that. But as a little peace-offer, I give you four newchapters today, which should cover everything you missed in the meantime. From next week on, I should be back in my usual posting rhythm, meaning one update a week, probably even two.

Enjoy, and a belated Happy New Year to everyone!

**Chapter 09 – Memories**

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_The first thing Remus became aware of was a constant dripping sound from somewhere next to his left ear._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

_It was driving him mad._

_Was that water dripping down anywhere? Was it still raining? It had been raining when he and Sirius had left for their errand last night._

_Sirius!_

_The sole thought about his friend brought back the memory of what had happened. The image of his own bloody hands pressing down on Sirius' bleeding belly seemed to be suddenly etched to the back of his eyelids and within moments Remus had scared himself wide awake._

_And the dripping sound was still there._

_Feeling too weak to open his eyes, Remus tried to find out what had happened and where he was._

_There was this dripping sound he could not place, else there was not that much noise around him to help him find out where he was. Only the sound of somebody breathing regularly beside him._

_Maybe that was Sirius._

_With a huge effort, Remus opened up one eye, then the other. The first thing he saw was a blurred brightness in which nothing had a real shape at all, then slowly things got more into focus. He saw a white ceiling, yellow-coloured walls and after a moment his eyes fell onto what Sirius used to call the 'world's most ugly painting', an image of a flowery field in front of a red-orange sunset. This was clue enough for Remus to realize that he was lying in the room he usually slept in when he stayed in headquarters over night._

_He turned his head slightly to find out who was there breathing beside him and with a small stab of disappointment and newly powered panic realized that it was not Sirius, but James. His friend seemed to sleep in what had to be quite an uncomfortable position sitting on a chair next to his bed, his head fallen slightly to the side._

_The dripping sound that was driving him so mad came from what looked like an IV-drip on the other side of his bed, but as far as Remus knew wizards hardly ever used those. He'd have to find out later, but first he needed to know something else. He turned his head back to where his friend sat._

_"James?"_

_Remus was shocked at how weak his own voice sounded, but it seemingly was strong enough to rouse James. Brown eyes fluttered open and James took a moment to orient himself. As his eyes settled on Remus, a relieved smile immediately crossed over his face._

_"Remus, how are you feeling?"_

_Remus shook his head, too weak to waste his breath on telling his friend that he was fine and that it wasn't all that important now as he'd rather know what had happened to Sirius._

_"Sirius?"_

_It wasn't the most eloquent Remus had ever spoken, but it seemed to serve its purpose as immediately a worried frown showed on James' face._

_"Maybe I should call up Madam Pomfrey and tell her that you're awake again, she said she wanted to know…"_

_Remus shook his head as forcefully as he could, not able to completely ignore the pain this caused him. Why was James trying to evade him?_

_"Sirius?"_

_With a sigh, James leaned back in his chair and tiredly rubbed his eyes._

_"James?"_

_James sighed again. Remus was nearly frantic by now. If nothing was wrong with Sirius then James would not act like he did now. What had happened? Had he not managed to keep him alive long enough? Had he failed and Sirius was…_

_"He's at St. Mungo's. It's been a close call, but he's alive and stable for now, that at least is something. Took long enough to get him there. The doctors don't understand why he made it, though, they say that he had lost far too much blood to be still alive."_

_Remus could have cried in relief that Sirius was still alive, but something in James' voice made him feel slightly uneasy._

_"Remus, don't you ever do something like this again, hear me? When the alarms went off and I knew that it had to be Sirius and you, I thought I'd get a heart-failure. And then Kingsley and I could not get there immediately because the whole bloody area was suddenly blocked against portkeys and warded against apparition."_

_Remus grimaced._

_"That was part of our problem, yes."_

_"When we finally arrived there and found you slumped down over Sirius, none of you moving and all this blood everywhere…gosh, I thought that the both of you were dead! I think I aged ten years in that one single moment."_

_"What happened?"_

_James remained silent for a long moment, but Remus didn't interrupt him. He had the feeling that there was a bit more to the whole story than he knew by now, and he had the feeling that it was quite difficult for James to talk about it all. After quite some time, James continued._

_"I pulled you away from Sirius and you were…I don't know, it was scary. You had blood all over you and I didn't know if it was yours or Sirius'. Your eyes were all glazy and unfocussed, you were barely breathing, and no matter how much I shouted at you or shook you, you simply didn't respond to anything, you just stared ahead. Kingsley took care of Sirius, and from what I saw he didn't think he'd make it. Even the doctors later said it was a miracle that he was still alive. We brought the two of you to St. Mungo's as fast as possible."_

_Remus looked at James and was startled when he saw the tears in his otherwise so composed friend's eyes. He had seen James cry only a couple of times, and hardly ever when he had been afraid or upset. The only time Remus could remember seeing James cry at all without thinking very hard had been in the delivery room when he had first held Harry in his arms, and even then it had been tears of joy._

_"James?"_

_James quickly focused his eyes again._

_"You nearly died shortly after we arrived at St. Mungo's. Just stopped breathing, had a complete circulation failure, something the doctors could not explain either. You had lost blood, but not nearly enough to explain your condition."_

_When James didn't continue, Remus rose a questioning eyebrow._

_"What happened?"_

_"You don't know what you did?"_

_Remus frowned. "What I did?"_

_James nodded and moved closer to Remus' bed, taking his right hand into his own. Remus was a bit startled at the unexpected physical contact. Though James had never shied away from him like so many others had done due to his lycanthropy, he also wasn't the kind of person to hold a friend's hand all of a sudden._

_"James?"_

_"Remus, you were keeping Sirius alive for so long."_

_Remus frowned. "Why, yes. At least I tried. I couldn't stop the bleeding, but I think I at least restricted it a bit until you came."_

_"No, that's not what I mean. __The doctors said that somehow, while you tried to stop Sirius' bleeding, you transferred some of your own strength into him when he didn't have any of his own left. That's what kept him alive for so long. Healers sometimes do that in dire situations, and at St. Mungo's they said you must have done it instinctively. Only you were never trained to do it. So you poured so much of your own strength into Sirius that you had hardly anything left to keep your own circulation going. At least that's the only explanation the doctors could come up with after they examined the both of you more closely."_

_Remus closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Somehow, he was not all that surprised by what James had said. He had not consciously done it, of course, but it made sense._

_"I didn't know I was doing that."_

_"But you did. __You saved his life, Remus", James continued in a voice that wasn't much above a whisper, "you saved his life and nearly killed yourself in the process."_

_And then James startled Remus even more as he bent down and carefully gathered his friend up in a tight hug, though he stayed mindful of the IV-drip. "I don't know what you've done or how you've done it, but whatever it was I can't thank you enough for it. Just don't ever do something like this again, all right? You scared the crap out of me there."  
__Remus' mind was still abuzz with questions, and when James helped him to lie down again he took the chance to ask them._

_"How come I am here and not at St. Mungo's?"_

_James shrugged._

_"The doctors healed your wounds and filled you up with reviving tonics and strengthening potions, and after a couple of hours you were stabilized, much unlike Sirius. The healers said as long as we kept watching you and gave you enough of those nourishment and strengthening potions", he gestured at the IV-drip, "you'd be all right. Albus didn't want to have two Order members at St. Mungo's so shortly after a Death Eater attack, you were easier to watch over here at the headquarters. And the healers wouldn't let us move Sirius, so we brought you home."_

_Remus nodded. Again, that made sense. __The members of the Order could not be careful enough, and having two members in the hospital at the same time would demand too much personnel to keep guard over them. Each known member of the Order of the __Phoenix__ was high up on Voldemort's wanted list, and public places like a hospitals always were a source of danger. Death Eater was not a job description, and whatever Voldemort's followers did when they were not out there in their hoods and masks nobody knew. There were simply too many nurses and doctors working at St. Mungo's to keep track of them all._

_But something else had struck him._

_"Did you just say 'after a couple of hours'? How long was I out? And what's that about Sirius not being in a stable condition, didn't you say he was stable for now?"_

_Remus struggled to get into a sitting position, but James held him down._

_"Relax, Remus. You've been unconscious for the better part of two days. Sirius' condition wasn't really stable until this afternoon. I've only come back from the hospital an hour ago, after the doctors had told me that he was finally out of the woods."_

_For the first time since waking up Remus noticed that James looked as if he hadn't slept much during the past days. He wasn't shaved, on the contrary there were at least two days worth of dark stubble on his face, his eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark rings, and his robes were crumpled. There were lines around his eyes which Remus thought had not been there before, but he could not tell for sure. But that would also explain why James had been sleeping when Remus had woken up._

_"Sirius is awake?"_

_James shook his head. "Not yet. Kingsley is guarding him now, practically threw me out of the hospital and told me to go home and get some sleep."_

_Remus smiled. "And instead of doing so you came here and hurt your back because you sleep in a chair? I'm flattered, James." He grimaced slightly. "Could we maybe do something about that IV-drip? This sound is slowly driving me insane."_

_James grimaced in sympathy. To him the dripping sound was not a real problem, but he knew how sensitive Remus' hearing was._

_"I'll send Lily up in a moment, I think she's the only one here who knows how to do it. Knowing my luck, I'd only give you an arterial bleeding if I tried to pull that thing out."_

_Remus' face remained serious._

_"James, it was a trap. They knew that we'd be there, and they knew what we were up to, so they waited until we were in the best position for them to attack. They had concealed themselves as if they knew what spells we'd use to try and find any possible traps and ambushes, and they patiently waited until we had placed most spells, just as if they were waiting to find out if there was something new we were using. And we just couldn't detect them with any of the spells we used. Some of those spells our people modified especially so that we'd detect every possible danger. And they knew that we'd try to get out by portkey, otherwise they'd not have bothered to block the whole area. They knew too much, they simply knew too much. Somebody must have told them."_

_James nodded._

_"Yes, that's what we think as well. Though Albus will still want to hear from the two of you how exactly it all happened. But we're convinced that somebody must have talked."_

_"James, so few people knew what we'd be up to that night. I can't see any of them being a traitor."_

_"Maybe it was Dumbledore's informant."_

_Remus nodded. "Maybe." But he knew that neither he nor James really believed that to be a possibility. The informant might have known that they'd investigate the hideout at some point, but neither had he known when, nor could he have had the inside information somebody had obviously passed on to the Death Eaters. But at the moment Remus felt too drained to think about who of their trusted friends might betray them. He tried to change the topic, but James beat him to it._

_"Do you need something? Something to drink, something to eat, anything else?"_

_Remus smiled. "Something to drink would be great."_

_James got up from his chair._

_"I'll fetch you something and ask Lily if she can do something about that IV-drip. I'll be back in a moment."_

_"Prongs?"_

_James was already at the door before he turned around._

_"Yes?"_

_"Not that I don't appreciate your presence, but why don't you lie down and get some sleep? You look horrible, if you don't mind me saying."_

_James smiled and nodded._

_"I guess you're right. I'll drop by later. Good night, Moony."  
"Night."_

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo_

_Five minutes later, there was a knock on Remus' door and Lily entered the room, levitating a tray in front of her and much to Remus' delight balancing Harry on her hip. The nearly one year old child struggled against his mother's hold as soon as he recognized Remus._

_"Moo'y! Moo'y!"_

_Lily smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but at the moment there's nobody here who could watch Harry for a moment, and I wouldn't want him crawling around on his own down there. I swear, that kid is just like his father, he tries to eat anything that doesn't crawl faster than him. But I can bring him over to James if you don't feel up to him."_

_Remus just shook his head._

_"No, let James sleep. Just leave Harry here."_

_"You sure you're up to handling him? Harry is a handful, you know that."_

_Remus only smiled and stretched out his arms. Lily handed the child over before she deposited the tray on Remus' bedside table. Remus smiled down at the child in his arms._

_"Hiya pup, how are you?"_

_Harry smiled a still rather toothless smile up at Remus and squealed delightedly as Remus tickled him along the ribcage. Lily picked up Remus' hand and before he knew what was happening she had removed the needle from out his hand and was putting a band-aid onto the small puncture wound._

_"Thank you."_

_"You're welcome. I don't know why James was mumbling something about giving you a serious blood-loss if he tried it, I think he was just chickening out, the big baby. I brought you something to drink and also some broth. You should take it easy on the food for a bit the healer said."  
"Oh joy!" Remus grimaced but thankfully took the glass of water Lily handed him and gulped it down, then picked up the spoon and started on the broth which was a bit difficult with Harry hopping up and down on his lap. Nevertheless he refused to let Lily take him, cherishing the time he could spend with the little child. But when he was finished eating his eyes were threatening to drop close again, and Lily picked Harry out of his arms and drew the curtains closed._

_"Sleep some more now, okay? That one was a bit close for comfort, you know?"_

_Remus nodded. "Yes, I know. Wake me if you have any news on Sirius, all right?"_

_"Promise. Sleep well."_

_"Good night, Lily."_

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo_

_It took four more days until Sirius woke up, an endless stretch of time as it seemed to Remus. He refused to keep lying in bed doing nothing after slightly less than another two days, and he spent the remaining time nearly without interruption at Sirius' bedside in St. Mungo's __Hospital__ of __Magical Maladies__. But still it was during one of the few hours when Remus was forcefully sent away to get some hours of sleep ("In a bed, chairs don't count", James had reasoned) that Sirius finally woke up. James was sitting by his friend's bedside as the blue eyes flickered open for the first time in nearly a week, and he couldn't have hidden his relief even if he had wanted it._

_"Padfoot?"_

_Tiredly and slowly, Sirius focussed his eyes on James and seemed to think for a moment, as if trying to remember if that was his name._

_"Yeah?"_

_His voice was barely above a whisper, and James could see in his friend's eyes how much that slight sign of weakness already irritated Sirius._

_"How are you feeling?"_

_Sirius did a small eye-roll. "Wondering why I'm not dead. I sure feel like it. What happened?"_

_"Well, that you're not dead is a small wonder in itself, and you ought to thank Remus for it actually."_

_"Remus?" Sirius all of a sudden looked around worriedly. "Where is he? Is he all right?"_

_James put a hand on Sirius' shoulder and pushed him down into the pillows again._

_"Remus is all right. He's at the headquarters at the moment, getting some sleep. It was a bit hard to tear him away from your bedside during the past couple of days."_

_"He didn't get hurt?"_

_James shook his head and shrugged at the same time._

_"A couple of wounds on his right arm and hand from a cutting spell, but nowhere near as dangerous as what you've been through. He exhausted himself a bit, though."_

_Sirius cocked his head in silent question and with a mental sigh James asked himself why it was always him who had to do the lengthy explanations._

_"You remember what happened to you?"_

_"I got stabbed, if I remember right."_

_James' expression darkened._

_"Yes, you did. The bastard cut straight into your abdominal artery. That was the worst, though not the only injury the blade caused."_

_Sirius frowned, thinking back for a moment. "Then I can only repeat: why am I still alive? With that place blocked for portkeys, you can't have arrived in time, no matter what Remus did. I'm not a doctor, but I would think I should have bled to death long before help arrived."_

_James sighed and tiredly rubbed his eyes._

_"Yes, you should have. But when we arrived there, you were still alive, although barely. And strangely enough Remus was pretty close to dying as well, though his injuries were nowhere near as bad as yours."_

_"What happened, Jamie?" _

_Concern had crept into Sirius' voice almost immediately upon hearing what James said about Remus. With a sad smile James shifted around on his uncomfortable chair, trying to find a good way to answer his best friend's question. Strangely, it had been a lot easier to explain this to Remus, but to Sirius it was another matter. James knew better than anybody else how protective Sirius was of his friends, and if he found out that Remus had nearly given his life to keep Sirius amongst the living he knew that a rather large bout of self-accusations was bound to follow._

_"I don't think Remus was aware of what he was doing, but while he tried to stop your bleeding he started transferring his own strength into you to keep you alive. Without it you'd not have survived until Kingsley and I brought you here. Only, Remus used so much of his own resources on you that he nearly didn't have enough left to keep himself going."_

_There was definite worry in Sirius' blue eyes now._

_"Remus is all right, isn't he?"_

_James nodded reassuringly._

_"He is." James immediately realized that Sirius still didn't quite believe him. "I promise. He left about two hours ago, and knowing him I guess he'll be back in another two or three hours. He's still a bit weak, but it's nothing serious."_

_Aside from all the bantering and light-hearted teasing that normally characterized their friendship, Sirius knew that James would not lie to him about something as serious as this. And he wouldn't bend the truth for him just because he was physically exhausted. If James said that Remus was all right, then Remus was all right, Sirius knew that. James continued to watch Sirius for quite a long time with an unreadable expression, until Sirius started squirming because he felt a bit uncomfortable under that gaze._

_"What's wrong, Jamie?"_

_James waited for a long moment before he answered, as much to search for the right words as to get his emotions back under control._

_"I thought you were dead, Padfoot." James drew in a slightly shuddering breath and looked away for a moment to stop himself from crying. He was irritated how soppy he had gotten during the past days. First he had nearly bawled his eyes out at Remus' bedside, and now he was close to breaking into tears again. But somehow he also felt that if he didn't react like that when two of his best friends had just knocked on Death's door, he was only one step away from becoming like…well, like Snape. A scary thought._

_"When I found you there, Remus was slumped down over you, none of you was moving and everything was full of blood. I thought you were dead", he repeated almost too lowly for Sirius to hear. He bit his lip, a sure sign that something was bothering him. "I'm not really ready to lose you yet. Or anytime else for that matter. I was scared I had lost you."_

_Sirius closed his eyes and breathed deeply a couple of times. He had always claimed not to be afraid of dying, especially if it was for something he deemed worth fighting and dying for, but now that James told him what had happened to him he realized that this was not entirely true. He wasn't scared of dying as such, that much was true. But the thought that he had nearly taken Remus' life because his friend had tried to save him, as well as the thought that James was so shocked and devastated by what had happened shook Sirius deeply._

_Weakly, he stretched out his arm and pulled James close._

_James was acting carefully, trying not to jar his friend's injuries, but he hugged Sirius tightly._

_"Don't do that again, Padfoot. Please don't do that again."_

_"Life is dangerous, Prongs. You know that I can't promise you that something like this won't happen again. I can't promise that I won't die. But I'll promise I'll be careful, all right?"_

_James nodded into his shoulder, then released him and grinned somewhat sheepishly._

_"Sorry, I didn't mean to get all soppy here."_

_Sirius grinned. "If it's any consolation, it wasn't as bad as when you got all worked up about not knowing if you'd be a good father a couple of weeks before Harry was born. That one back then was way worse."_

_"I don't know. Somehow, I can hardly remember anything from that night on account of somebody filling me up with Odgeon's Firewhiskey until I couldn't even remember my own name."_

_Sirius laughed lowly._

_"Oh, I'll never forget Lily's withering looks when I deposited her half-drunk, half-hungover husband into her bedroom the next morning. I thought for sure she was going to hex me, just as if I was to blame for your state."_

_"Padfoot, you were responsible for my state."_

_Sirius tried to look indignant. "But she could not have known that!"_

_James only shook his head, a smile stealing across his features. "I'd say she judged it from the precedents, and then it had always been your fault."_

_"Prongs, old buddy, I don't know if anybody ever told you, but ever since you're married you simply aren't fun anymore."_

_Both men looked at each other, fighting down their urge to laugh out loud. After a while, James got up from his chair._

_"I'll get a healer to check you through and fire-call headquarters to tell them that you woke up. I'll be back in a moment. It's good to have you back, Sirius."_

_With a smile he left the room._

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo_

_It was about an hour later, James had only just returned into Sirius' room after the doctors had checked Sirius through over and over again, when suddenly there was a knock on the door._

_Frowning, James turned around, his hand moving to where he kept his wand in his sleeve._

_"Yes?"_

_The door opened and Remus appeared. He looked as if he had hurried quite much to get here, and his hair was still tousled from when he had been sleeping. In his arms, he carried an obviously fast asleep Harry._

_"Hi." He smiled as he looked at Sirius and found his friend indeed to be awake. Sirius smiled back, only James looked a bit startled._

_"Remus? I thought you were getting some more hours of sleep. And what is Harry doing here?"_

_Remus sat down on the other side of bed and shifted Harry slightly against his chest._

_"Alastor literally yelled me awake after you called, and as I was awake anyway after that I saw no use in sitting around in headquarters with nothing to do. And I had to bring Harry because nobody else was at headquarters. Lily had to leave for Hogwarts, and Arthur was called to the Ministry. So it was either bringing him or leaving him with Mad Eye and Dung."  
James shuddered visibly at the thought of his beloved son in the hands of Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody. Not that he didn't like Moody, but Merlin only knew what he would do to Harry if one of his fits of paranoia overcame him. And Mundungus Fletcher…James didn't want to think about that either. Most probably his son would have accidentally ended up in a load of contraband on its way to __Ireland__ or __Norway_

_"No, you're right. That would not have been good."_

_Remus turned towards Sirius._

_"Hey. How are you feeling?"_

_Sirius shrugged slightly. "I was quite fine, until those healers started brandishing their wands over me. Now I got a headache and I'm actually quite hungry."  
James got up from his chair.  
"Why didn't you say anything? I'll get you something to eat. Shall I take Harry?"_

_Remus shook his head._

_"No, he's sleeping soundly. Just leave him here."_

_With a nod, James left the room and Remus turned back to Sirius._

_"You're really feeling all right?"  
Sirius nodded. "Sure. Thanks to you, from what James told me."_

_Remus quickly shook his head._

_"Sirius, please don't. I didn't even know what it was I was doing. I'm only glad that it worked out, for a moment there I thought I'd not be able to help you. You gave me quite the scare, you know? I'd appreciate it if I never had to see anything like this again. I can't remember that I've ever been so scared in my life."_

_"Sorry."_

_Remus waved him off. "It's not your fault. I just don't want to get in such a situation ever again."_

_"Me neither."_

_Remus looked down as suddenly the bundle in his arms began to shift around. A delighted smile immediately started to spread across Sirius' face. A moment later Harry opened up his green eyes and stared curiously at Remus. But when his eyes darted across the room and fell onto his godfather on the bed he forgot everything else.  
"Paf! Paf!" Harry clapped his hands excitedly and stretched his arms out in the universal toddler demand to be picked up._

_"Harry missed you really much, it was a heartbreaking sight. Drove James and Lily pretty nuts, I can tell you." Remus tightened his hold on the squirming child as Sirius reached for Harry. "Are you sure it's a good idea for you to hold him just yet?"_

_But Sirius only shook his head and picked Harry out of Remus' arms. The small child immediately stopped his struggles and allowed himself to be held close by his godfather. Remus smiled at the sight. Harry of course loved being cuddled and cared for by his parents, and he had never shied away from any of their friends or colleagues when they had seen the child, but his attachment to Sirius was incredibly strong. Whenever his godfather was around, Harry forgot everything else, his parents included. It was something that never failed to make Remus smile and that was slowly driving James insane. Harry's extreme affection for and attachment to Sirius was only bested by Sirius' own love for the child. Just now, an extremely large smile started to show on Sirius' face as he looked at his godson._

_"Hiya Harry."  
"Paf!" Harry's chubby arms reached for Sirius' shirt and with a smile Sirius tickled the child. Harry squealed loudly and fell back onto the blanket under his godfather's merciless attack. A couple of minutes passed like this, then the door opened and James reappeared, a tray with some food in his hands. Upon seeing Harry lying on top of Sirius he only rolled his eyes._

_"I should have known. Sirius, do you think it is wise to have Harry jump around on your stomach again already? In case you hadn't noticed, the large red line across your belly is a freshly healed scar from a near-fatal stab-wound. In case you hadn't seen it yet, Harry's knees are level with it at the moment."_

_Sirius ignored James and the slightly scolding tone of his best friend, he merely waved his hand at him. "Let me hold my godson, all right?"_

_James shook his head and sat back down in his previously vacated chair._

_"I swear, if I didn't know it for sure, I'd ask myself whether _**god**_son is the appropriate expression here."_

_Sirius laughed. "No chance, Jamie. Kid's got your hair, poor sod, nobody else has hair like that."_

_"I just want you to know that my father had hair like that. It's family heritage."_

_Sirius snorted. "Doesn't make it better, Prongs. Not at all. Where's Wormtail?"_

_"Was sent to __Ireland__ the day after the two of you were attacked.__ He tried to argue about it with his boss but to no avail. But he fire-calls at least three times a day to ask how the two of you are doing. He'll be back as soon as he can."_

_Sirius smiled weakly._

_"Pity. Would have been nice to have all the Marauders together again for a change. We hardly see each other anymore outside of headquarters. But tell him that he doesn't need to worry, all right?"_

_James nodded reluctantly, and so did Remus. Sirius could easily say that. He had been unconscious while the rest of them had been worrying themselves sick for nearly a week. Remus had seen how worried Peter had been after he had gotten to know that Remus and Sirius had been ambushed. Wormtail had been nothing but a bundle of nerves ever since then, even more so than he normally was. And when he had called up during the past day he had not looked all that well, either. Peter was always pale and easily scared, but during the past weeks there had been huge shadows underneath his eyes and his face had lost some of its formerly everlasting chubbiness._

_No matter how strongly the war had raged around them before, it had never struck as closely home to any of them before, and all four of them realized how much this was about to change them. They weren't invincible anymore – if they had ever been – and as Remus was now watching the pale form of his friend on the bed he realized how much that thought scared him. He was not ready to lose any of the people close to him, and especially not to this senseless war.  
Not if he could do anything to prevent it._

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus didn't really like it when he lost himself in those memories. He remembered all too well the horrible mixture of feelings he had been through upon waking up at headquarters and realizing that Sirius was not with him. And he remembered the days and days of waiting for him to wake up. It was one thing to have the healers tell him that Sirius would _probably_ survive, and another entirely to finally see him awake again. It had been a horrible week, the worst days Remus had been through. It had been James who had told him about the afternoon when Sirius had woken up again, Remus actually regretted that he had not been there.

But all in all, those memories were far too painful to keep brooding about them. Sirius had been alive back then, and so had James and Lily been. Peter had not yet been revealed as a traitor, and Remus' life had had a meaning. Now, everything was different. Right now, everything was simply senseless, he was merely existing rather than living. He couldn't stand that, he just couldn't. So he was actually a bit glad when he heard the door to the kitchen behind him. He didn't mind the small interruption, he had been through those memories over and over again throughout the past month. And it didn't make them better, on the contrary. But somebody else who was up at this time of night might ask Remus what had driven him down here, and he was definitely not in the mood for explanations.

The door closed again and steps walked up towards the kitchen counter. Though Remus still had his eyes fixed on his teacup, he only had to take a short look to recognize Arthur. Remus didn't know what brought Arthur down her so late at night, but he silently watched how the man poured himself a cup tea and sat down on the table facing him. Remus looked up and forced himself to smile.

"Can't sleep?", he asked and Arthur shook his head.

"No, not really", he answered. "Too much going through my head at the moment."

Yes, that could keep one from getting a good night's sleep, Remus knew that better than probably anyone else here in the house. One look at the slightly older man's face told Remus that Arthur was seriously bothered by something. And no matter how many problems Remus himself was struggling with, he couldn't stand to see somebody else struggling with something if there was the slightest chance that he could help. Most people found it easy to talk to Remus for some reason, and he did his best to always have an open ear for others. And he could imagine fairly well what it was that was bothering Arthur so much. After all, they had spent quite a lot of time together over the past years, and he knew Arthur quite well by now.

"It's Percy, isn't it?"

Arthur stared down at his hands for a moment, then he slowly nodded.

"Yes, that's one thing. Percy is always on my mind lately, no matter that it's been over a year since he moved out. And now that the war is about to start and we're all in the middle of it…"

He shook his head and tried to hide how his breath was hitching slightly from Remus. Remus did notice, but he didn't comment on it. But also he didn't know what to say to possibly console Arthur. Percy had made a decision, maybe he had thought he was doing the right thing or was even now still convinced of it. Be that as it may, there was nothing anybody could do to remedy the situation until Percy came around again. He was the one to make the first step, nobody could push him to it. And until that happened, the Weasleys would have to live with the situation, sad as it was.

Arthur seemingly thought along the same lines, because he smiled unconvincingly and looked up at Remus. It was obvious that he wanted to change the topic, only Remus didn't know if he'd like the direction this was pushing their conversation into.

"And what keeps you up so late?"

Remus shrugged and gulped down his tea. He didn't answer the question, but for Arthur that seemed answer enough. He looked at Remus for a long time, and his gaze told the younger man enough about what was going through his head. It was obvious to everybody that he had changed after Sirius' death, Remus knew that. Probably nobody guessed just how deep his hurt was truly running, and they all might think that it was solely grief for his last remaining friend that was plaguing him. That was not entirely right, but for him even that was too big a revelation of what was going on inside of him. He didn't particularly like it when others knew about his weaknesses, that was why he had built up his stony defences in the first place.

"It's what happened to Sirius, right? It doesn't let you sleep."

Too close to the truth, even if Arthur might not know it. It stung Remus that he was obviously read that easily by others, and as an answer he barely managed a shrug at first. Under the table however, he was nervously twisting his hands, one hand rubbing the back of the other. He only hoped that Arthur would realize that he didn't want to have that conversation at all.

"That might be some part of it, but it's nothing to worry about. I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

"Somehow, I don't believe this is the first night you spend brooding down here in the kitchen."

Again, Remus only shrugged. He didn't want to talk about this now, so he got up from his chair and placed his empty teacup into the sink. Arthur turned so that he could keep looking at Remus and seemed to struggle for the right words for a moment.

"Remus, I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk, I'll be there to listen."

Remus, already on his way to the door, turned around.

"I don't know what talking about it would bring. I don't know if there is anything to talk about. But thank you for the offer. Good night, Arthur."

"Good night."

Remus barely heard the last words because he had already closed the kitchen door behind himself. Slowly, he made his way up to his room again. He would find no more sleep this night, that he was sure of, but with Arthur present he'd not feel comfortable to spend his night in the kitchen like he usually did. It was a bit unfair, he knew. Arthur worried about him, only wanted to help, and Remus really liked the other man. But he simply could not talk about what was bothering him of late, mainly because he didn't know the real reason himself. He was grieving for his friend, that much was obvious. But it didn't explain all of what was going on with him. The nightmares maybe, but neither their content nor the sudden frequency with which they appeared. Not to mention his physical symptoms. His listlessness, his lacking appetite which had caused him to lose rather much weight over the past weeks. And there hadn't been awfully much weight to begin with. But that would be a proper explanation as to why he was constantly either feeling dizzy or having headaches.

As he closed the bedroom door behind himself, Remus tried to shake those unpleasant thoughts away. Brooding too much could also be a cause of his headaches. Instead, he picked up his reading glasses from the desk, pulled a book from the shelf and settled on the bed to read it.


	10. The First Real Birthday Party

**Chapter 10 – The First Real Birthday Party**

The days after Ron and Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place literally flew by, and before Harry realized it, it was his birthday. He woke rather late that morning when Mrs. Weasley stuck her head in through the door and called for him and Ron to get up. Groggily, Harry rolled around in his bed for a minute or two, then lazily swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. Ron stood in front of the wardrobe and grinned at him.

"Happy Birthday, mate."

Harry grinned back, then took some clothes out of the wardrobe.

"Thanks. Though I really hope you all aren't going to make a fuss out of it."

"You wish. There will be a party, no amount of whining is going to get you out of that one."

Harry just shook his head and went into the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. There were slight dark smudged under his eyes, the only sign that his sleep had not been all that undisturbed and restful. Ron's arrival had changed nothing about Harry's nightly terrors. It didn't happen every night, but he still had nightmares about Sirius' death. And last night had been one of those nights again. Harry was immensely grateful that Ron was blessed with a deep sleep and didn't wake up from Harry's thrashing. Fortunately, he didn't seem to cry out during those dreams, because that would have surely woken Ron up. Harry shook his head and splashed water onto his face. At least he always fell asleep again after the nightmares.

When he and Ron came down into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, everybody else already seemed to be there. Hermione and Ginny were sitting at the table together with Bill and Charlie, Remus, Kingsley, Mr. Weasley, and even Mad Eye Moody and Dung. Hermione immediately came over and gave him a hug, and then Harry shook numerous hands and hugged most members of the Weasley family as they all wished him a happy birthday. When they all finally settled around the table, Harry realized that Mrs. Weasley had even made special breakfast for today. Instead of the usual toast, egg and porridge there were pancakes, coffee, tea and sandwiches, and with a gracious smile at Ron's mother, Harry dug in. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to think too much about who was missing on the table today, otherwise his mood would be spoilt immediately, he knew that. So he focussed very hard to enjoy chatting with his friends and the Order members.

When they had finished eating, Kingsley and Dung excused themselves. Kingsley had to go back to the Ministry, though he told Harry that Tonks would come over later that day, and Dung only said that he had to leave. Nobody really wanted to know where he went to, so nobody would have to worry about his probably illegal activities.

From out of nowhere, Ron and Hermione suddenly pulled out a wrapped parcel and handed it over.

"Happy Birthday", Hermione said again as she gave it to Harry. "This is from Ron and me." Harry took it with a smile.

"Thank you."

He unwrapped unsurprisingly book-shaped parcel Hermione had given him. By now he was used to receiving books from her, and he didn't really mind it. Though how Ron had agreed to give him a book together with her remained a mystery to Harry. But instead of a preparation-book for the N.E.W.T.s or something similarly educating which he had expected to be inside, Harry suddenly held a copy of the _Grand Quidditch Encyclopaedia – 153rd edition with team histories and pictures of the most spectacular goals of all times_ in his hands. His chin must have dropped as he held the thick volume and carefully opened it up, running through the pages to take a first glimpse.

"Wow…thank you, Hermione. Thanks, Ron. That's great!"

He carefully put the book on the table and gave Hermione a hug. She smiled.

"I'm glad you like it. We went to Diagon Alley yesterday before we came here to get your present. I wanted to give you this really interesting History of Magic book I've found, but in the end Ron convinced me that you might be more happy with a Quidditch book."

Harry just grinned and clasped Ron's shoulder. "Thanks mate."

Ron grinned.

"For the book, or for convincing Hermione to leave the History of Magic book be?"

"For both."

Harry received even more presents from the others who were there. A photo-album from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley together with another knit-jumper, a book with joke- and trick-curses from Bill and Charlie, and lots and loads of samples from the twins' joke-shop, much to the dismay of their mother. But this time Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything, she just picked the empty plates from the table and with Remus' help started to clean them.  
"There will be no lunch today", she said. "We'll have coffee and cake later, and then dinner, so I don't think we'll need another meal today."

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again and just waved into the direction of his mother. That was a lost battle, and he didn't mean to pursue it any further. Instead, he turned towards the twins.

"You didn't give Harry any of the stuff you tried to test on me, did you?"

"And what would that be, little brother?", Fred asked with an innocent tone that fooled nobody.

"Those twitching-toffees, for example. I really thought my eye would never stop twitching, it drove me pretty nuts."

Fred and George laughed at the memory of testing their products on their little brother and decided to ignore their mother's withering looks. And they took care that the cheerful mood in the kitchen did not falter for the rest of the day. Of course Grimmauld Place had no backyard or garden in which they could have spent some time outside or even played a round of Quidditch, so they were rather limited in their choice of actions. They talked for a bit with Remus, Bill and Charlie, but after an hour or so the twins dragged them upstairs into their room to show them their newest inventions – knowing fully well that Mrs. Weasley would have disapproved strongly of it. Harry would probably forever stay astonished as to Fred and George's inventiveness when it came to jokes and pranks. Aside from their by now remarkably big collection of sweets that made you sick so that you could fluke classes, they also had stacked up their assortment in explosives, potions and spellwork. They had various kinds of firework, some of it looking rather dangerous in the advertising leaflets Fred showed Harry. It was quite strange to see how those two, who had never seemed to care very much about their formal education, had developed a talent especially in potions. Harry wondered briefly how Snape would react to seeing all the brews Fred and George had come up with on their own, not to mention all the stuff they offered which was not their own invention, but their own making. The shop had grown remarkably over the past months, and it was obvious that Fred and George were enjoying their work immensely. All the better, Harry thought. The world was grim enough, anyway, and it would not get better soon from all he knew. At least they enjoyed themselves and others had fun with their inventions. Well, not Mrs. Weasley, but a lot of other people.

In the afternoon Mrs. Weasley called them down for cake and coffee, but soon afterwards sent them back upstairs with the explicit order to stay away from the kitchen until she called them back down. Harry only hoped that whatever she was preparing wasn't too big, just a comfortable dinner with the people here at Grimmauld Place would be enough.

But he should have known Mrs. Weasley. Of course Ron's mother knew that Harry had never had a real birthday party before, and with her preparations had exceeded herself. When Harry, Ron and Hermione came down into the kitchen after she called them, Harry's jaw dropped for the second time that day. Over the past hours, Mrs. Wesley had decorated the kitchen with a huge banner that said "Happy Birthday", the long eating table had been turned into a buffet onto which a variety of food and drinks had been placed. Every inhabitant and visitor of Grimmauld Place was standing in the room with their glasses raised, cheering "Happy Birthday, Harry!" as he came into the room. And even if he had not wanted a big party, Harry could not stop a grin from spreading on his face.

"Thank you, it's great that you're all here!"

Mrs. Weasley ushered Harry straight towards the buffet and placed a plate into his hand.

"Tuck in, Harry, there's plenty of food here."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. You needn't have made all the effort, though."

Mrs. Weasley only smiled at him. "Oh, that was no effort, it was my pleasure. Now you just enjoy your evening."

"Thank you", Harry repeated. Mrs. Weasley squeezed his shoulder, then she went over to the stove to fetch another deliciously-smelling pot to put it on the table. Harry put some stew onto his plate, fetched himself a butterbeer and went over to where Ron and Hermione were standing. Tonks had arrived by now, and had Hermione not grabbed hold of Harry's plate, he'd have spilled himself with stew at Tonks' exuberant greeting-hug. Even with Hermione's help he had a hard time not to spill his butterbeer.

"Harry, happy birthday. Sorry that I couldn't come earlier, but I was busy at work."

"That's all right. I'm glad that you could manage to come at all."

Tonks' featured hairstyle of today was a dark red crew-cut, but her face and remaining appearance had remained the same then when Harry had first met her.

"Is it busy at the Ministry right now?"

Tonks pulled a face. "Busy doesn't even begin to describe it. If the Ministry lacks one thing, it's cooperation between the single departments. Aside from Fudge's admission that You-Know-Who is back, nobody really knows what he's planning to do at the moment. It's one chaotic mess at the moment, but I thought I could as well take off for one evening. It can't get more messed up without me. So here I am, ready to forget about Department meetings and endless briefings for tonight."

Tonks' words reminded Harry of the fact that he had not heard any news about Voldemort or the Ministry's plans and activities against him ever since he had come to Grimmauld Place. He was rather sure that Remus, Bill or Charlie would tell him if something serious happened, but the mere fact that nothing big had happened didn't mean that nothing at all had happened. But he didn't want to breach the subject here and now. For one, he didn't know if Tonks was allowed to talk about Ministry business at all, and even if she was it would definitely be a mood-killer to talk about Voldemort at his birthday party.

So Harry put his questions aside for the moment and tried to enjoy his party. He talked to Tonks for a bit longer, then went over to where Bill and Charlie were talking with Dung, Fred and George. The twins were obviously still doing business with Dung, at least Harry noticed how Fred handed over a parchment to the man which Dung let slip inconspicuously into one of the many pockets of his robe. Harry would have bet the contents of his Gringott's vault that the parchment contained a list of ingredients which were either hard to get by or plainly illegal. As long as the products in which the ingredients ended up weren't poisonous or otherwise prone to cause damage, Harry would not bother with the doubtful legal status of their transactions.

Time practically flew by that evening. At one point, Harry was tired of standing around all the time and sat down at the kitchen table, simply watching the people in the room for a moment. They all seemed so careless, talking and laughing as if nothing bad existed in the world. Just as if Voldemort was not out there, about to start his second war against the wizarding world. There were only few moments when Harry could forget about Voldemort entirely, not tonight though, but he felt consoled by the fact that his friends seemed to be able to. At least Ron and Hermione didn't look as if they were overly worried about something at the moment. It felt like last Christmas when they had been celebrating here at Grimmauld Place. Ron was talking to Bill and Dung, Hermione and Ginny had retreated into a far-off corner, and Remus was engaged in a vivid conversation with Kingsley and Mr. Weasley, gesturing wildly with his hands to emphasize what he was talking about. For a brief moment, Harry wondered why he could not see Sirius anywhere around. He looked around the room in search of his godfather, and he had to check the room twice before he realized why Sirius was not here this night. Why Sirius would never be here again, whether for his birthday, for Christmas, or for any day else. Because Sirius was dead.

Tears shot into Harry's eyes immediately and the realization felt like something stabbing into his heart. He had forgotten for one small moment that Sirius was dead, and realizing his mistake made all the pain about Sirius' death flare up again. Suddenly the room felt too small, the conversation was too loud, and everybody was far too cheerful considering that the person who belonged into this house more than anybody else in this room was dead and would never come back again. And nobody here in the kitchen seemed to care. The room suddenly felt far too hot and Harry quickly got up from his chair and went over towards the door. He needed to get out for a moment, he needed to be somewhere where he could breathe again, and where he was alone. He didn't particularly care about talking at the moment, so he hoped that nobody had seen him leave and was coming after him.

Harry didn't really know where he was going, he only knew that he didn't want to be in the kitchen anymore, and neither did he want to go into his and Ron's room. He walked up the first flight of stairs and down the corridor, trying to remember which rooms were here on that floor. He had already forgotten the little he had learned about No. 12 Grimmauld Place last summer.

As he passed one of the rooms, he heard sounds behind the door which he could not immediately place. As he knew that everybody in the house was supposedly in the kitchen, it astonished him a bit that somebody was up there to cause this noise. At first he thought that maybe there was a boggart or a ghoul in the room which might have been forgotten to banish during the cleanup over the last year, but then he heard a sound he recognized and opened the door.

This had to be Mrs. Black's bedroom, and Harry had completely forgotten that his godfather had kept Buckbeak the hippogriff there. He had thought that with Sirius gone somebody would have taken the animal away, but Buckbeak seemingly was still there. Harry entered the room, closed the door behind himself and bowed to the huge animal. Buckbeak regarded him for a moment, then he bent his legs and returned the bow, allowing Harry to come closer and pat his neck and back.

"Hello Buckbeak. I had not thought that you were still here."

The bird just turned its head and watched Harry from its huge eyes. Maybe it was just the teenager's imagination, but to him the eyes seemed all too huge and sad. He smiled unconvincingly and patted Buckbeak's neck some more.

"You miss him, too, don't you? I bet you're asking yourself why Sirius doesn't show up anymore."

And suddenly, the tears were back in his eyes, and this time Harry had no chance of holding them back whatsoever. He retreated into the far-off corner of the room and crouched against the wall, simply allowing the tears to run down his cheeks. He didn't know if it would help any, but no matter what he thought about crying, he just could not hold it all back anymore.

Harry didn't know for how long he had cried when Buckbeak suddenly turned his head towards the door and scratched his hooves across the floor. Somebody was coming down the corridor, and Harry only hoped that they were not heading towards this room. He was not in the mood for company. Nevertheless, he quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and stood back behind the hippogriff so that he could not immediately be seen. And indeed, the footsteps stopped in front of the door, then Harry heard it being opened up and whoever had come was stepping into the room.

"Harry?"

Harry had thought to be save up here in Mrs. Black's former bedroom, but obviously Remus had thought he would hide out here. He patted Buckbeak's neck once more and stepped around the hippogriff. Hopefully, Remus would not see that he had been crying.

"Hey."

Remus bowed to Buckbeak, then stepped closer into the room and smiled at Harry.

"I thought you might be up here. You mind if I join you?"

Harry shook his head.

"I just wanted to look after Buckbeak for a moment. I had nearly forgotten that he's here as well."

"Yes, he still is. Dung took care of him, mostly. But it was not the perfect solution right from the start, even when Sirius was still taking care of him."

"I guess Buckbeak needs a bit more room than this here."

Remus nodded and sat down on the floor with his back against the wall.

"Right. He hasn't flown for over a year now. Too dangerous, obviously. A hippogriff flying around here could draw attention, and not only from the muggles. But he's not doing fine here, he's getting more and more restless and moody. Last week he bowed to Dung and then tried to bite him. I've talked to Hagrid, he's trying to find a herd for him. Up in Ireland there are a couple of wild herds, if Hagrid manages to introduce him to one of them and get him accepted, I think he'll be doing a lot better. But it could take another two or three weeks."

Harry nodded and sank down beside Remus.

"You didn't seem all that comfortable downstairs", Remus said without preamble.

Harry shrugged. "The party was really a great idea, I don't want to seem ungrateful. It's just…I had imagined my first real birthday party to be slightly different. Or rather, I had thought I'd be more in the mood for it."

They both sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, Remus shifted slightly and pulled something out of the pocket of his robe.

"Despite the fact that you're not in the mood for a birthday celebration, I have something I want to give you."

Harry looked first at Remus and then at what he was holding in his hand. It was a square parcel wrapped in blue and green wrapping paper.

"You really don't need to give me anything."

"But I want to. Besides, it's actually not something from me, but from Sirius. I'm just the one to give it to you."

Harry frowned and swallowed against the lump in his throat.

"From Sirius? How's that?"

"Tonks and I were looking through his things, and that's where I found it. It's something I know he treasured a lot, and I think he would have wanted you to have it."

He held the parcel out to Harry, and hesitantly the teenager took it. He didn't open it up, though, and after a moment Remus spoke again.  
"I didn't glue my fingers together with spell-o-tape so that you keep staring at the package forever. Just open it up."

Harry still hesitated for a moment, but then he turned the package around and loosened the strips of tape on the back. As he peeled the wrapping paper away, he held a picture frame in his hands. It was plain silver and without any engravings, and it lay heavily in Harry's hands. He turned it around and had to swallow against his tears as he realized just what kind of picture was in the frame. A young and handsome Sirius was standing in a living room Harry had never seen before, and on his arm he was holding a baby of maybe ten months or so, with jet black and unruly hair. Both were waving into the camera, the baby a bit clumsily and only with the help of Sirius, and from time to time Sirius tickled the child in the ribs upon which it would squeal with laughter and try to get away from the offending hand. Harry didn't know for how long he had stared at the picture when Remus spoke again.

"He cherished that picture. The frame is some kind of family heirloom, though Sirius never really cared about it. But it's over a hundred years old, a fancy sort of real silver frame with unbreakable glass or something equally posh. Sirius had loads of pictures of you, of your parents and you, or of himself and you, but this here was the one that stood on his nightstand until he was brought to Azkaban and all his things were brought back to Grimmauld Place."

Harry kept his gaze fixed on the picture, unconsciously tracing Sirius' outline with his index finger. He didn't know what to say, and his throat felt too constricted to speak, anyway.

"Thank you", he finally croaked out. Remus nodded, though Harry didn't see it. His eyes were far too clouded with tears for him to see anything clearly. Harry only wished that he could remember that, that he could remember being together with his godfather when he was a small child. He wished so desperately to have some memories of happy times with Sirius. But he didn't, and that was something he'd have to live with. And now Sirius was gone and every chance to make new memories together with his godfather had gone with him.

"He loved you", Remus said after a while. "He never came around telling you while you were old enough to remember, but he loved you very much."

Harry shook his head and fought hard against his tears.

"He might have loved me while I was the child on that picture, but he hardly got to know me after he broke out of Azkaban. And I don't even remember ever to have been that child."

"He did, believe me. Whenever we were talking aside from Order business, he was always talking about you. How proud he was of you, how much he'd love to go to Hogwarts to see you again, how excited he had been when he had first seen you play Quidditch. He could talk about you for hours and never tired of it, only I think it was hard for him to show you how much he really cared. He didn't want to smother you with affection as long as he didn't know how you'd react to it. And the two of you didn't have that much time together, you hardly knew each other."

Harry still had his eyes fixed on the picture. He wished that Remus was right with what he said, but there was a nagging little voice of doubt in the back of his mind.

"What…what about what Mrs. Weasley said last year? That Sirius simply confused me with my Dad."

Remus was silent for a moment, giving the question some serious thought.

"At times that might have been true. I knew Sirius very well before he went to Azkaban, and after he was back even I had problems understanding him at times. He had been locked up for twelve years in a place where he had no chance to deal with his memories and everything that happened to him. And when he came out of there, the baby he once knew had grown up into a boy who resembled his best friend incredibly. I can imagine very well that he mistook you for James at times. Or rather, that he simply assumed you were _like_ James, because you resemble him so much. That was the only thing in you he recognized, the only thing he could relate to, your outward resemblance to his dead best friend. He didn't know much about what made you, he didn't know anything about the traits that make you uniquely Harry and have nothing to do with James. But unfortunately he never had the time to discover all the important things about you. That is why I wanted to give you the picture, so that you have something to remind you. Sirius loved you, back then just as well as during the past years. I know that it probably hurts to look at the picture right now, but there might come a time when you'll be glad to have something to remind you of him."  
"Thank you, Remus."

"You're welcome, Harry. I'm sorry if it upset you."

Harry shrugged.

"That's all right. I'm thinking about him for most of the day, anyway."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know. I don't think I can really talk about it. It's not that I think of specific things, I just miss him, and badly. And sometimes I think I even miss the things I never had with him."

"Like living with him, being a real family, just the two of you."

Harry nodded and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I miss having a home. No matter where that would have been, but a place where I know I belong. I never had that, and ever since I got to know Sirius, having that one day – with _him_ – has been my hope. Something I could cling to. But always things got in between."

"I'm sorry."

Harry frowned and for a moment had to think about what his former teacher meant. He really had to stress his memory until he remembered that it had been Remus' sudden change into the werewolf that had prevented them from delivering Wormtail to the Ministry the night he had first met Sirius. Of course Remus' change had set the chain of events into motion that had led to Sirius fleeing again, but Harry had never blamed Remus for anything. It had just been one more moment of bad luck for all of them, but nothing more to Harry.

"It wasn't your fault what happened back then. Without you, I'd probably not even have listened to Sirius' story anyway."

A small smile spread across Remus' face. "Oh, I don't know. You were angry, but not angry enough to kill or hurt him, even if you had known how. And I think curiosity would have made you listen to him. He could be very persistent."

Harry carefully placed the picture on the floor beside him and leaned back against the wall. Next to him, Remus wearily rubbed his temples, his eyes squeezed close as if he was having a headache.

"Are you all right?", Harry asked. Remus nodded quickly, a bit too quickly for Harry's liking.

"Yes, I am. I've only been a bit tried lately, and full moon is approaching. But I'm fine."

Harry didn't believe him, he knew that full moon was nearly two weeks away still. He had to admit that he didn't know all that much about lycanthropy, but he could not imagine that it already affected Remus now. That would mean it never didn't affect him. But for now, he decided not to press the matter any further. Maybe it was full moon, and if something different was bothering Remus, then the man surely had his reasons for not talking to him about them. The two of them sat in companionable silence for some minutes, Remus kneading one of his hands with the other unconsciously, staring at the wall behind Buckbeak's head.

"Can I ask you something?", Harry finally said. Remus nodded.

"Of course."

"What is happening now?"

Remus turned so that he was facing Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"The Order. I mean, I understood what you did last year. When the Ministry didn't believe that Voldemort was back, the Order had to try and do something against him. But now? As far as I know, even Fudge has accepted Voldemort's return by now, and it was in the Prophet at the end of the last school year. So I think the Ministry is finally doing something against Voldemort, but what is the Order doing then?"

Remus nodded.

"Yes, the Ministry has admitted that Voldemort is back, but you have to see that the Order also existed during the first war, despite the fact that everybody knew that Voldemort was there, threatening our world. Minister Fudge's public admission that he is back has taken a lot of pressure from our shoulders, though. We don't have to work in secret anymore, and we don't have to take care of everything. But that doesn't mean there is nothing to do for us. For one, we have been making plans on how to proceed for far longer than the Ministry or the DMLE. We have information they don't have yet, so we need to coordinate with the Ministry. And there are still more things that need to be done. We all didn't stop being in the resistance against Voldemort four weeks ago, we simply shifted tasks a bit. We take care of the things the Ministry is still hesitant to do, like contacting the non-human groups in the wizarding society. We watch people who sided with Voldemort last war but were never openly revealed or punished. Mainly, we gather information and try to get a picture of what is going on. Then we try to involve the Ministry in what we find out, mostly through our people there, like Kingsley or Tonks."

"But what about Voldemort? I haven't heard anybody mention him since that night in the Ministry."

Harry's voice broke a bit as he remembered what else had happened that night, and Remus squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Again just like last year, that is because he has not done anything. There have been no Death Eater attacks, no action we could determine to be caused by Voldemort. It's not a good development for many reasons. We still don't know what we're up against, we still don't know what he is planning to do next. And if nothing happens for a couple of weeks longer, then maybe the public will not believe in his return anymore. It's only natural that people don't want to believe in something this horrible if they don't see any proof for it. Not that I want something to happen, when Voldemort strikes I fear it will cost a number of lives. But knowing that we stand at the brink of war and are just waiting for the first tragedy to happen is unbearable. I don't know if you have read the _Daily Prophet_ lately, but this anxiety as to what is about to happen shows in what they're writing about the situation. They have not only admitted that Voldemort is back, they have also indirectly revoked a lot of what they have written about you and your mental stability last year. Not directly of course, but ever since they first admitted Voldemort's return, your reputation has improved again. Of course, after all they all expect you to save the wizarding world from him sooner or later. Ironic, but that's how it is."

"What do you think he'll do?"

Remus thought for a long moment before he answered.

"If I only knew for sure, Harry. But it's no secret that he wants to gain control of the wizarding world again. He wants power, and for that he needs to get rid of those who have the power now."

"The Ministry."

Remus nodded. "Amongst other things, the Ministry. Undoubtedly, some people at the Ministry are already working for him, supplying him with information. Once he knows who is standing on his side and who not, he'll try to get rid of those who could pose a threat to him. Then of course there is Albus. Because even if the Ministry falls, Albus still is a big enough figure in our society to lead us through this war. So Voldemort will do his best to get Albus out of the way, maybe even break the safety around Hogwarts. Our most vulnerable point are our children. Once people are no longer sure that their children are safe at Hogwarts, panic will spread. Panic makes It easier for him to strike, and maybe even to win. And then there are you."

Harry swallowed and nodded.

"He needs to kill me."

"I don't know if he needs to, or _has_ to kill you. I've always been a bit sceptical about the destining effect of predictions. But even if it wasn't necessary for him to kill you to stay alive himself, he needs to do so to prove himself. A wizard with the claim of absolute power over his world can only be defeated by an underage wizard so many times before even his followers start doubting him. You have become dangerous for him because whatever he did, you have always escaped with your life so far. He kept on underestimating you time and time again. But I'm afraid that should it ever come to another encounter between you, he will do his best not to make this mistake again."

Harry pulled a face and stared down at the photograph of himself and Sirius again. Sirius waved at him – at _him_ and not at the baby he was holding – then he smiled and pressed a kiss on the top of baby-Harry's head. Then he just seemed to look straight at Harry, as if he knew that something was bothering his godson. Harry smiled shakily and placed his hand on the glass.

"Will you come down again? I think the twins and Dung are still taking the party to new heights."

Harry shook his head.  
"No, I think I'll go to bed. I…it's all been a bit much today. A lot is going through my head right now, I would not make good company."

He got up from the floor and Remus followed suit.

"I know I've told you this a couple of times already, but I'll be there to listen if you ever want to talk."

"I know. Thank you, Remus. Good night."

"Good night, Harry. Sleep well."

Harry went upstairs and into his bedroom. He was a bit relieved to see that Ron seemingly was still downstairs with the others. Quickly, he changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed. He placed the picture frame with the photograph of Sirius and himself on the nightstand and climbed into bed. Before he extinguished the lights, he watched the image from the past for a long moment. Sirius was looking straight back at him, his head cocked slightly to the side and holding baby-Harry's head against his chest with his free hand.

"I miss you", Harry whispered. "I miss you so much. I wish you were still here with me. I don't know if I can go through all this alone. I'm scared, and I don't know who will be there to help me."

Sirius smiled at him just as if he had heard Harry's words and was trying to encourage him. Harry silently kept on looking at the picture, thinking about why on earth he had never been given the chance to really experience the love and comfort his parents or his godfather seemed to have been so willing to give, and why life had treated his godfather even worse than it had treated Harry so far. It just wasn't fair. A tear rolled down Harry's cheek, but he didn't wipe it away. How often might Sirius have lain in bed watching that picture for a moment before he went to sleep? Harry didn't want to continue this train of thought, otherwise he'd only have another nightmare about Sirius falling through the veil. He curled up under the blankets and extinguished the lights. It took a long time until he fell asleep that night, but somehow it was a comforting feeling to know that Sirius' picture was standing on the nightstand. At least a small piece of his godfather had remained with him. And this night, for once he didn't have any nightmares.


	11. Order Meetings

**Chapter 11 – Order Meetings**

Even if Harry had not realized it, his birthday party had been a welcome relief from the daily routine at Grimmauld Place. A daily routine that consisted of meetings, meetings and even more meetings during which a variety of Order members discussed how little they actually knew and how helpless they actually were. To be honest, it was slowly eating Remus up from the inside. All those meetings were neither productive nor good for anything at all, so in Remus' opinion they made no sense whatsoever. But they day after Harry's party he went to the afternoon meeting without complaint. He'd sit through this one just like he had sat through the numerous meetings before, nursing his thin hope that this time it might be different and they might actually achieve something.

Remus was already rather unnerved by the time he came down into the kitchen, but nevertheless he forced his face into a calm and expressionless mask as he sat down at the table. There weren't many members attending the meeting, even Dumbledore had excused himself earlier that morning because he had important business at the Ministry. But Kingsley, Snape Moody, Dung, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie and Tonks were there. The intention of the meeting was to try and coordinate the latest developments in the DMLE with their own activities, but once more Remus was forced to listen to Kingsley telling them that even if the Ministry – and especially Fudge and those close to him – was planning a future action concerning Voldemort, then he didn't know about it. On his chair two places to Remus' right, Snape sneered.

"Ironic, isn't it?"

Kingsley turned around and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

His voice showed clearly that he didn't have much patience left, but Snape didn't seem to notice.

"It's ironic that we have three Order members who are high-ranking in the DMLE, and still we know just as much as if we'd been to their official press-conference."

Kingsley narrowed his eyes.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Snape?"

Snape shrugged. "That it's sad to have three insiders in the department who gather next to none inside information. That could be one of the reasons why we don't get anything done at the moment."

"Oh, and what am I supposed to do in your opinion? Maybe I should stand in front of Fudge's office and listen at his door?"

Snape shrugged, and Remus literally saw Kingsley's temper rise. And Kingsley's was not the only temper rising here, Remus had hardly any patience left for petty fighting, either.

"Well", Snape replied with a grin, "at least then we'd have a chance of hearing something that's not known to the entire wizarding world. Even if it's just Minister Fudge's private conversation with Mrs. Fudge."

"Merlin's beard, Severus! Just leave it be, will you?", Remus interrupted the two before they could really start a fight. "We are all doing everything we can, could you just stop the criticizing and petty fighting?"

Snape rose an eyebrow. "So everybody's doing all they can, aren't they? Then the DMLE is a pitiful excuse for law enforcement, because if what Moody, Tonks and Shacklebolt found out over the past weeks is all that's going on there, then they're seemingly preparing to hand over the keys to the city to the Dark Lord!"

Remus got up so quickly that his chair fell backwards to the floor.

"This is not helping us any, Severus!"

"No, and neither is what Shacklebolt is doing helping us any!", Snape shot back, turning and stepping over so that he was standing right in front of Remus. The other people in the room just watched the two men, for the moment stunned speechless by this sudden show of open hostility. Dumbledore might have stepped in between immediately, but as he was not there, nobody else dared to. Remus glared at Snape, and as he spoke his voice was harsh and tightly controlled.

"Stop it, Severus. We can't afford to go at each other's throat now."

"So you think I should just stop saying what I think, Lupin?"

"No, but don't you think we're all aware of the problems the Order has? Because we are, and maybe we ought to search for solutions instead of yelling at each other!"

Snape shrugged as if he could hardly care less about the Order of the Phoenix and its problems at the moment. "Then maybe I should come back when those solutions are found. Or am I wrong in thinking that there is nothing new any of you has to report?"

Nobody answered, and after a moment Snape turned around and left the room. The silence kept on hanging over the room for some moments longer. Remus forced himself to breathe in deeply, then he picked up his chair and sat down again. Kingsley was still standing a bit helplessly behind his own chair, but eventually he broke the silence.

"Well, that was something different."

Remus shook his head. "Sorry. I just couldn't stand this today, I've listened to that petty and senseless fighting for long enough, it's wearing too much on everybody involved."

Kingsley waved him off. "Snape wasn't entirely wrong, though I don't particularly care about the way he said it. But I don't need Snape to point out that we're stuck, and I for one don't have any idea how we're going to get the information we're lacking."

Kingsley sat back down and everybody turned their attention to Moody as the old Auror spoke.

"It's the Minister who is keeping things from us. Kingsley or I only get told about procedures when we're directly involved in them. I don't know what the Minister is planning for the Aurors on a larger scale. On the one hand, he's relying so much on Dumbledore's suggestions, on the other hand he closes up as soon as the Order is mentioned."

"You mustn't forget that the Order is no official Ministry group. Fudge is not obliged to tell us anything or to involve us in anything", Tonks interrupted.

"But it's not correct to use all the information we've gathered over the past year now that he himself has finally admitted the truth and just leave us hanging like that!", Kingsley snapped angrily. Moody chuckled hoarsely.

"That's politics. There's nothing we can do about it, we just have to make the best of the situation."

Bill had been following the conversation silently, but now he seemingly could not keep quiet for any longer.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, kid, is that as we can't change out momentary situation, we should make the best of it. Continue what we're doing, focus on the things the Ministry is not yet willing to do. I don't think we have another choice with things as they are now."

Remus shook his head.

"But the fact remains that we depend on the information we get from the DMLE. And it's no news that we're kept short on information. And that's the core of our problem, because if we don't know what the Ministry is doing or planning to do, then what we do might – in the worst case – be counterproductive. For how long is that supposed to continue before Fudge realizes as well that this is a mistake?"

Kingsley nodded at Remus' words. "The answer is to that is simple – until the missed chances bite him in the behind. We all know that this is how it works with Fudge. He likes things smooth and easy, without complications and without people interfering in his business. Of course he can use the information we give him, but if he has to imply the Order into his official agenda, things get too complicated for him to keep up. What do you think Dumbledore is doing at the Ministry all the time? Trying to convince Fudge to entrust the Order officially with certain tasks. We're not an official organization of the Ministry, and probably never will be if Fudge continues to act like that. No matter how much our work might be needed or appreciated, that doesn't mean they'll return the favour and will ever tell us something they found out. I don't see any chance to change that at the moment, though."

Silence settled over the room while everybody wracked their brains for a possible solution to their problem. The stretch of silence that followed only showed that nobody really had a good idea of what to do against their lack of information.

"What about the archives", Dung finally said. "Even Aurors have to do paperwork at times, you're whining about it far too much anyway. Maybe it would help if you spent a little more time down at the archives."

"I don't think that would be a solution, Dung. The important things would not be down in the public archives but somewhere else, and even if something relevant was to be found there, weeks or more can pass before a file ends up in the archive. All our information would be delayed and not really useful. If we could manage to get there at all, you've never seen an archivist when he or she thinks somebody doesn't have a right to be in the archives" Kingsley merely shrugged. "It is as I said – I can only do so much. There are simply parts of the DMLE I don't have an insight into, and neither has anybody else in the Order. You know that Alastor is kept short on information lately because they don't think he can't be trusted with his…", his eyes strayed to Moody and he eyed him carefully, as if searching for the right words, "…with his constant carefulness. And as long as we don't know if Fudge is really going to be open with us, we could do with a member a little further up in the Department, that's the only way I can think of to get us reliable information."

Dung shrugged. "What about Lupin? I mean, if you want one of the top men in the Department, that's definitely him, and as such he has the contacts we might need."

All eyes in the room turned on Remus, and he had a hard time not to let his anger show on his face. He shot Dung a very dark glare for bringing him into this situation and thusly forcing him to explain things he didn't want to explain to anybody outside his family, then shook his head.  
"Don't look at me like that. I don't think that Janus would even consider helping us, and if he does then I am not the right person to ask him. Alastor ought to do that, or Albus, but I seriously doubt that he'll listen to anybody."

"Why not?"

Again, Remus glared at Dung for a moment, but the other man didn't seem to notice. Probably didn't want to, but then again Remus didn't know how much Dung knew about his brother. If he had only heard all the rumours about Janus, then it was no small wonder that he would not let go off the topic. Highly decorated Auror with a well-respected reputation. Only, none of the rumours said anything about Janus' obvious flaws in character, and Remus did not really want to explain those to the assembled audience. That would take far too long, and it was none of their business.

"He won't help us, believe me on this. I know him well enough to say that."

Kingsley seemed to know a bit more about Janus Lupin as a person because he kept silent. So did Moody, though Remus guessed that for different reasons. Aside from Remus, from all the people here in the room Moody knew Janus probably best. And contrary to Remus, he got along very well with Janus. That was probably the reason why Moody remained silent for the moment. Bill didn't seem to have any reservations against speaking, though. Quite obviously his curiosity – not to mention his firm belief in the rightness of their resistance – had been sparked.

"I mean, he's your brother, right?" Remus nodded wearily, already knowing where this would lead to. Bill continued. "And he's one of the top Aurors in the Department, literally a legend already. I mean, who would see the sense in what we're doing here if not him? He simply has to help us."

Remus sighed and shook his head again.

"I'm glad you still keep your optimism, Bill, but Janus has his own rules. I don't really think he'd be interested in what we're trying to do. He's fighting his own fight against Voldemort, within the Ministry's system. It's not as if he was idly twisting his thumbs, on the contrary I can imagine that he's overloaded with work at the moment. He neither has the time for nor interest in changing his rules all of a sudden. A civil resistance against Voldemort simply is not something he'd involve himself. And you have to consider that though many things can be said about him, he cannot be called disloyal." Seeing that Kingsley was about to say something, Remus shook his head once more. "No Kingsley. Whatever you want to say, it has no use. Janus might not be loyal to Fudge as a person, but he takes his job seriously. He takes the system he's working in seriously. And you above all others ought to know that this doesn't imply to provide outside sources with confidential information."

"Without the bits of information I can gather at the Ministry, we would be even more helpless."

Remus nodded wearily.

"I know that, Kingsley. I did not mean to affront you in any way. But while we all value your information a lot, you know that Janus sees things a lot differently. You know him, don't you?"

Kingsley nodded raising a hand to show Remus that he knew what he meant and that he understood that this was not the time for confrontation.

"Yes, sorry Remus. We're all a bit on the edge lately. You can't really blame Bill for trying, can you?"

Remus turned towards Bill again and smiled slightly at the obviously confused Weasley.

"As I said, I don't think it's a bad idea to get somebody further up in the DMLE working for us, but Janus is simply the wrong person to ask, that's all. You can try, but I don't think it will do any good. And if _I_ try it, our chances that he helps will equal zero right from the start."

"But why?"

Remus shook his head again and waved Bill's question off. "Too long a story to tell now. Far too long a story."

Bill's curiosity was seemingly not satisfied, he sensed a story behind Remus' hesitancy to talk, but even as he opened his mouth to pose a new question, Moody interrupted him.

"Just stop it, kid. I know that Remus is probably right with what he is saying about his brother, and I for one think we ought to be more careful with whom we trust and whom not, anyway. Now, anybody else has something to say or are we finished for now?"

Everybody looked at each other and a few shakes of the head were exchanged. Moody nodded and slowly the people began to file out of the kitchen, all leaving to resume whatever task they had to keep them occupied. Remus remained and levitated the cups and plate towards the kitchen sink where he placed a scrubbing charm on them to clean them. He heard the people leave, but there was a distinct set of footsteps that did not sound and he knew that Moody had not left.

After maybe half a minute during which Remus had continuously stared at the water in the sink, Moody came up towards him and stood to his right, watching the younger man with his intense gaze.

"The kid didn't know any better, don't be angry at him."

"I'm not angry with Bill, I'm angry with Dung for even bringing Janus up."

Moody shrugged. "You know what he is like."

Remus angrily threw a sponge into the water and turned around so that he was facing Moody.

"And I know what Janus is like! You do as well, can you honestly imagine him being in the Order with us? Or rather, with you, because this Order is definitely not big enough for the both of us, but can you imagine it? Because I think it would be the rather abrupt end of everything we're trying to do. Janus gets pretty inconsiderate in his views and actions, and he has never really cared about anything else but himself. I know that it's not your fault that Dung even suggested such a hilarious idea, but you'd better do anything in your might to let it never become a reality, otherwise we can as well give up the whole resistance fight before it even begins."

Moody simply continued to look at him with that strange gaze, his magical eye giving Remus the impression that he was looking straight into his mind.

"There is a war about to start, Remus. Maybe you should resolve your family matters."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Only that I don't think it will help anybody if the two of you keep up your little family feud. Mundungus is right with one thing – the information Janus could give us would help us immensely. We need to be prepared for what is about to come."

"Is it my fault now that we don't have enough informants? Moody, just _ask_ Janus if you think he will be so valuable, all right? You might be the only one here he'll listen to at any rate, but you'll see where it leads to!"

Moody shook his head and slowly walked over to the table again. "We don't need to talk about your brother's flaws. I have trained him when he came from France, I've been working with him for years now, I know all about his bad sides. He is arrogant, self-absorbed, vain, and he thinks he is Merlin's gift to the wizarding world."

"You forgot that he's also a narrow-minded bastard, but otherwise I agree, yes."

"But he can be trusted."

Remus shook his head. "What makes you so sure of that? Because I would not conclude that he can be trusted solely because he is my brother."

"No, but because he would hardly have anything to gain by betraying our side."

Remus shook his head and turned away from the kitchen counter. "People have changed sides for the strangest of reasons, Alastor. That doesn't mean I think Janus is working for Voldemort, but I know for a fact that he'd cause disagreements here in the Order. And that's something we absolutely don't need to top everything we're already struggling with. But look, I don't really want to have that discussion. Ask him if you think it will help, if not, then finally stop pestering me about it."

When Remus stormed to the door, Moody looked after him. Just as Remus reached the door, he added something to his earlier statements.

"Maybe you should resolve your problems with him before the war takes away the chance to do that."

Remus only shook his head in resignation, then he left the room. Moody could easily talk about that, he thought. What did the man think, who did he think he was to give such an advice? The conflict between Janus and himself rooted far in the past, in the time when they still had been children. That was nothing that could be solved with an afternoon of talking, just for the sake of making their peace before the war took away one of them. As if the world was ever this easy.

As Remus made his way upstairs, he contemplated that there was one main reason for his anger about the fact that Dung had suggested to get Janus working for the Order. Right now, Remus didn't want to have Janus in his life. Not more than necessary, anyway. The compromise they were living with right now had them seeing each other at Christmas, and on their father's birthday, and maybe once or twice a year on other occasions. And that was about as much of Janus as Remus could bear. Seeing him more often simply did not work out. And Remus did not even want to imagine what it would look like if Janus really worked for the Order. Their only chance to achieve something as a resistance was to stand as a united front, and the encounter with Severus this afternoon had shown that they needed to keep disagreements within the Order as small as possible. They barely managed it now, how should they manage to keep that up with somebody as strong-minded as his brother around?

Remus opened the door to his room and went in. After a quick inner debate as to what he was supposed to do with the remaining morning, he threw himself onto the bed and rubbed his aching temples. He really ought to do something against those headaches, he knew that. But not today. Maybe it would get better on its own if he took a little nap now. If he could sleep now, that was.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"What do you think they are doing down there?", Ron asked before he stuffed another chocolate frog into his mouth.

"You mean the meeting?"

Ron nodded, mouth too full to respond verbally. Harry shrugged.

"I don't really know. Nobody ever really tells me anything of what's going on down there."

"What is the Order doing these days?", Hermione asked. "Shouldn't the Ministry take care of things now?"

"Remus told me that for the most part they're trying to do things the Ministry isn't willing to do."

"Like what?", Hermione asked, her curiosity sparked.

"He said something about contacting non-human groups before Voldemort does, and watching people they suspect to be Death Eaters."

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense. After all, the Order can't really act, can they? I don't think the Order of the Phoenix has any legal standing, how are they supposed to do anything else without the Ministry's support? And we don't really need to talk about the Ministry's policy towards non-human groups. Just think how house elfs are treated without anybody interfering…"

"Yeah, whatever", Ron waved her off before she got into another of her rambles about house elfs, S.P.E.W. and whatever else. "I see the sense in that. But what did Professor Lupin mean with watching people?"

Harry shrugged. "He didn't say. But I think it's just what it sounds like, keeping an eye out on people they suspect to be Death Eaters and watch what they're doing."

"They're having far too few people for that", Hermione said in a doubtful voice. "From all that I've read about the last war, there were many people who followed You-Know-Who and then said that they had been put under the Imperious Curse. Even if we don't know all Order members, they can never be enough to watch everybody who is a suspect."

"Maybe they're picking out the most likely candidates. I really don't know, maybe we should ask Professor Lupin if he can tell us more about it."

That was probably right, Harry mused. Remus would know more about what exactly the Order was doing, the other question was only whether he was allowed to tell them anything about it. And there was still the worry about his former teacher which Harry could not entirely suppress. And at least Hermione was perceptive enough to realize that Remus had changed, as her next words proved.

"Don't you have the feeling that Professor Lupin isn't entirely well? He always looked a bit tired especially around full moon, but I've been really shocked when I first saw him again."

Ron looked up with a slight frown on his face.

"Maybe full moon is tomorrow or something."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's still a week away. And Remus has looked this exhausted and sick ever since he visited me in the hospital."

"But what could that be? Do you think he's sick?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I asked him yesterday, and he said he was only tired, and that full moon was coming closer. But somehow that didn't convince me."

Hermione and Harry looked at each other for a moment. There was nothing they could do to help Remus even if something was wrong with him. Maybe they would find out what was going on in the next couple of days, but until then they could only keep their eyes and ears open. Ron, too, though his perception differed from Hermione's and Harry's. Subtlety and the finer nuances had never been his forte, but Ron had other strengths to compensate that. Harry was only worried that there might be nothing at all they could do to help.


	12. More Serious Collisions

**Chapter 12 –More Serious****Col****lisions**

With the arrival of Ron and Hermione, Harry had a bit more of an easy time at Grimmauld Place. It had not been bad before, but now he had two friends with him who were just as little involved in the Order work than he himself was. So instead of hanging around the house with nothing to do like he had been doing since his arrival, he could spend time with Ron, Hermione and Ginny instead. Remus was relieved about that development. He had done his best to spend time with the teenager after he had brought him here, but that had not been enough, Remus knew that. He and Harry were not close, Remus didn't delude himself in thinking they were. And though he had taken up on calling him 'Remus' by now, Remus knew that for Harry he would probably remain the everlasting Professor. It was hardly more than a teacher-student relationship they had managed to establish over the years they had known each other, and that was not always enough to make the teenager confide in him when he had problems. But now Harry had his friends with him, teenagers just like him, with whom it probably was easier to talk about what was bothering him. Maybe that would be one thing that finally worked out all right in this house, because nothing the Order attempted did at the moment.

Meeting after meeting, discussion after discussion, and the only thing that became more and more clear was that the Order was as helpless as it had ever been. Helpless, useless, clueless, name any other –less and most probably it would fit on the Order's momentary state as well. And every other day they met in the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place to discuss how to make things better for them. Without any success. But as the next meeting approached, Remus once more dragged himself down the stairs and into the kitchen to attend it. Of course he did. He could as well have kept on brooding in his room, but for now he still refused to give up hope that something good might come out of what they were trying to do. He was close, but still not ready to give everything up.

If only he were not so tired. Again he had not gotten more than two and a half hours sleep last night, then his nightmares had driven him down into the basement kitchen again. Fortunately, without any interruptions this time. He had tried to get some more sleep around five in the morning, but other than half an hour of tossing and turning in his bed he had not managed anything. It was wearing on him, especially on his patience and on his ability to keep up his guard in front of others. That was probably what worried him most. He had worked hard to perfect his ability of hiding what was going on inside of him for so many years, yet lately it didn't take much to make his façade crack and his temper rise. He never wanted that to happen, he simply lacked the strength to stop it from happening.

When Remus came into the kitchen, everybody else already seemed to be there. The usual suspects. Remus grabbed himself a cup of tea and sat down on a chair next to Kingsley, watching the faces of the others. Tension hung thickly in the room and that showed in the other's expressions. Everybody was hoping for good news, yet they all knew it was a futile hope. Nobody wanted something to happen that would actively start this war, but without anything happening, they'd never know what it was they had to prepare themselves for. Talking about the war, finding allies and preparing for it was one thing, but the thing as such was something entirely different. Something they could never prepare for. At the end of whatever awaited them, not all the people here in this room would be alive anymore, they all knew that. And they were all afraid of it. Not a good mixture, fear and anticipation, but those were their feelings and nothing in the world could stop that.

Dumbledore, who had been talking lowly with Mad Eye on the far end of the table, cleared his throat a few minutes after Remus had come into the room and stood up from his chair.

"Thank you all for coming so early this morning. There is not much we need to talk about, but I have some news from Hagrid, and there are some other things we need to talk about, but all in all I won't take up much of your time today."

Dung murmured something which was too low even for Remus' hearing to catch, but judged by the tone of his voice it had not been an exclamation of pleasure. Dumbledore continued unfazed of this remark.

"Hagrid contacted me yesterday evening, at a rather unusual hour, using rather unusual means." The old wizard chuckled lowly to himself, then he continued. "First of all, he has found a wild herd of hippogriffs up in Ireland, and as soon as he has finished his current assignment he'll set to the task of releasing Buckbeak into the wild. Though it might take a little while longer, as he is currently not in Ireland anymore. But as soon as he comes back he'll take care of it."

"Wonderful", Snape said with a raised eyebrow. "Freeing that hippogriff is a big step to winning this war for us, I've always said that."

"Severus", Remus and Dumbledore said in unison, though Remus' voice was distinctly sharper than the headmaster's. Snape raised a hand and averted his eyes in a silent gesture to state that he had understood their message of keeping his mouth shut until he had something important to say. Not that he saw it as relenting to others who were right while he was wrong, but at least he remained silent for the time being. Dumbledore nodded.

"All right, now that this is settled with far more words than I would have used on it, we can maybe continue on to things relating to our current situation."

Snape did a small eye-roll at this remark, but it was barely noticeable and Remus doubted that anybody had seen it.

"Hagrid reinforced his and Madame Maxine's opinion that it would not be a wise attempt to contact the giants again. He said that he had received information due to which they retreated farther into the mountains and takes it as a sign that they'll stay out of whatever conflict will arise in the wizarding world soon."

"Bloody good this does us", Dung grumbled. Moody's magical eye swivelled around until it focussed on Dung.

"That's far better than having them against us in the war, Dung. We're probably up against the worst You-Know-Who can rouse, I for one can do without the giants on the other side as well."

Dumbledore listened to them attentively, but when it became obvious that there was nothing constructive coming from them anymore, he picked up his former line of thought again.

"There are still the other non-human groups to consider. There is no way we can get into contact with the trolls, that much is obvious to everybody, but at the moment I have envoys sent off to contact two respectively three of the largest non-human populations in Europe, aside from the groups with whom we've already started to establish contact."

Kingsley frowned at Dumbledore.

"What groups are we talking about? Non-human is a very wide field, I'm a bit at a loss right now."

"For one, I have asked some of Hogwarts employees to spread word around the house elfs."

"House elfs?", Kingsley asked without even trying to conceal his astonishment. "What's the use in contacting a group in our society who are only loyal to their respective masters? Care to tell me what the use is in that?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "We should never under-estimate the house elfs as a group, Kingsley. I think that is one big problem in our society. I do not harbour the hope that we might get information about Voldemort's top servants through their house elfs, but try to see it on a different scale. It's the house elfs who run nearly everything in our society. They are the backbone of every one of our organizations and institutions, always remaining unseen and doing the work nobody else wants to do. Nobody notices a house elf when it does its work, and they get to know far more about what is going on that most other employees. Be that at Hogwarts, St. Mungo's, all the Ministry institutions, name whatever you want, house elfs are always involved. As I said, I don't expect to receive any vital information about Death Eater activities, even if we knew house elfs working for suspected Death Eaters they would not give anything away. But the loyalty of especially Ministry elves is not bound to a single person, but rather to an institution. It might be easier to get some information that way. And no matter what kind of information we receive, it might prove useful for us. We cannot be picky about where we get our information from, and I for one lie quite a bit of hope into receiving some useful pieces of information that way. After all, what is more inconspicuous than a house elf doing its work?"

Kingsley shrugged, but still he didn't look to convinced of the idea. Remus wasn't, either, but it certainly did no harm to give it a try.

"What is the second group you were talking about?", Remus asked. Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, and there was something in his eyes that made Remus feel uneasy all of a sudden. He got the sinking feeling that he would not like what was about to come, not one bit.

"It's not so much one specific group than a few of them, most probably the first ones Voldemort will try to pull on his side, if he hasn't already done. I've sent Hagrid to find out just how much he has already set in motion there."

"Where?", Remus asked sceptically, the bad feeling in his stomach rising rapidly.

"Romania."

An oppressive silence settled over the kitchen, which was broken a second afterwards when Remus slammed his flat palm onto the table with so much force that the teacups rattled in their saucers. His face had rapidly lost all colour and his mouth was pressed into a tight line.

"No!", he brought out in a tight voice. "No, Albus. You can't do that, that is madness. Sheer and utter madness! We're talking about the largest werewolf populations in all of Europe here, not to mention the vampires and whatever else lives there without registration and control. In certain areas there you're lucky to go out at night and not be something entirely else by the next morning! What in Merlin's name do you think you can achieve there?"

Dumbledore watched Remus' outburst calmly, then he stroke through his beard before he answered.

"In the worst case, we have to see what we're up against. We have to get a picture of just how bad the situation in Romania really is. That is why I sent Hagrid, because I know he can handle what he'll be facing there. In the best case, we might win some allies, but I'd settle for anything in between that doesn't have us facing the Romanian non-human groups in this war."

"And how are you planning to do that?", Remus asked with a mirthless laugh. "Go to the Romanian werewolf registry, ask for the addresses of all lycanthropes in the country and go knocking on their door? Albus, Romania is not Great Britain. There is no werewolf registry, that is why the situation got so much out of hand there. I've been there during the first war, do you really want me to remind you of what I saw there? The people in the areas where the situations are worst both fear the non-humans as well as they try to hunt them down and kill them. Nobody there will openly admit that they're a werewolf, a vampire, or anything else slightly out of the ordinary. _Nobody_. They're scared of what they are, what they are able to do, most of them try to pretend that nothing was wrong at all. I don't know how Voldemort might plan on recruiting anybody there, but I know for sure that we won't be successful with anything we try. And even if it worked, would you really want werewolves and giants as allies?"

"Personally, I've been against employing werewolves in our cause right from the start", Snape threw in from the side, which earned him a sharp glare from Remus and a silencing look from Dumbledore. Yet he smirked openly, knowing he had scored a point and stated his case. Dumbledore held his stare for a moment, then looked back at Remus.

"I would very much prefer knowing them to stand on our side than on Voldemort's. It will be difficult enough to fight against Death Eaters, it's always far more dangerous to fight against not entirely human beings. I don't plan on anything, Remus. Especially not on employing werewolves and vampires as an army of sorts."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"I want them to keep out of this for as long as possible."

"Werewolves can't be trusted", Moody threw in from his place at the far end of the table. "And neither can you trust a vampire. I think we're wasting our efforts, seeing that Romania is a far shot from the distance alone. The war will start here, and not in Eastern Europe."

"You're forgetting one very strong connection Voldemort has always had to that area, Alastor. Durmstrang. That is where a lot of his followers bid their time and raised their offspring. We all know that something has been silently boiling there since the first war ended, and I fear that it's close to spilling over now. It's not that far from Russia to Romania. And once this war breaks out, it won't be limited to Great Britain for long, not if Voldemort gets his will. He wants absolute control over all of the wizarding world, it would be foolish to think that he is still planning on a nationally limited scale. And if he isn't doing that, we can't allow us to do that, either. Not if we want to be prepared."

Again, silence settled over the kitchen while everybody let the last bits of the conversation roll through their heads again. Remus was shaking his head in denial.

"It can't be a solution, Albus. Werewolves and vampires are not a solution to our problem, they'll only cause us more trouble than we can deal with."

"For once, Lupin and I are in perfect agreement", Snape snarled. Remus bit back a remark and instead balled his hands into fists so tightly that his fingernails dug painfully into his palms. He knew that Snape just wanted to provoke him, that his former classmate wanted him to lose his temper, but still he was dangerously close to losing his composure. Another of those remarks, and Snape would get what was coming at him. Dumbledore interrupted their stare-down.

"I think it is both important and necessary to at least inform ourselves about the situation especially in that area. Actually, there are far more things we ought to keep an eye on, but we only have the capacities to focus on the potentially most dangerous ones. Hagrid is already on his way, we'll see what we do about the situation in Romania once he reports back."

"Are we doing anything about the situation here in Great Britain, or do we focus on other affairs for the moment?"

"Alastor, there is absolutely no need for this attitude, you should know the situation well enough to know that!" Dumbledore's voice sounded slightly exasperated, nothing unusual during their meetings as of late. Seeing Dumbledore lose his temper was something that only served to upset all other Order members, though nobody would openly admit it. But their situation was getting more and more desperate with each day that passed without achievements and results, they all knew that. And it wore on them. As Dumbledore continued, it was obvious from his voice that he was not in his usual pleasant mood but was holding on tightly to keep his voice level.

"We're doing everything we can, you know that. I do not have daily meetings with the Minister because I appreciate his presence and his pleasant small-talk so much. Severus isn't risking his neck because he enjoys being around Death Eaters who mistrust him and would probably prefer to see him dead. You know that as well as I do, Alastor, so don't start this with me. We're both short on people and on information, so we're doing the best we can with what we have. We have a tail on the Death Eaters we suspect to be involved with Voldemort right now, we're using every resource we have. It is not much, but we're doing all we can at the moment."

Snape got up from his chair and started pacing in front of the fireplace.

"I doubt that tailing Lucius Malfoy will do us any good, It's just as much of a waste of time like any possible involvement in Romania."

"Then why don't _you_ ever propose something that helps us progressing with what we're doing? I for one haven't seen you supply us with anything constructive, with anything at all aside from your snappy remarks. I'd rather go searching out every single werewolf in Romania myself than sit here and idly twist my thumbs."

"Well, sitting here waiting for something _useful_ to do won't get you killed before the war even starts!", Snape shot back at Moody, his dark eyes blazing furiously in the light of the torches. That was the moment Dung chose to enter the discussion. Before, he had taken up his usual position with his head resting in his hand and looking fast asleep, but this time he had been awake and following the discussion.

"Neither of what you're doing is in any way constructive, you know? I for one opt for a little action on our behalf, and Romania is an interesting place to be…"

"Merlin, isn't anybody here taking this seriously?", Snape all but shouted. "This is not about using the Order to get your next load of contraband across the border. Am I the only one here in the room who sees things clearly, and if so, may I ask what is keeping all of you blinded from reality? We have no standing, we have no information, we have no starting-point for anything! I'm hanging in thin air as far as information about the Inner Death Eater circles are concerned, the Minister is keeping everybody so short on information that it's a small wonder he publicly mentions what day of the week it is, and by sending Hagrid to Romania we're desperately clinging to the last available straw! If we're that desperate, we can as well give up the whole resistance now, because hell will freeze over before Lucius Malfoy makes a mistake that gives away Death Eater secrets. What's the use in tailing him then? I've always said we should focus on different things for the moment."

"Merlin Snape, could you simply shut up for once and not try to make everything look worse than it already is?"

Snape sneered at Dung and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Just for the sake of letting you live your illusions I will certainly not keep my opinion at bay when I know things to be wrong."

Remus sighed, doing his best to prevent another fight from breaking out. He himself was already angry enough, he definitely didn't need the others around him to bite their heads off.

"You could at least be a bit less sarcastic about it, Severus."

"I'm realistic, Lupin, not sarcastic. Or would it help if I allowed all of you to continue working into the entirely wrong direction with what we're doing just for the sake of the atmosphere here in the room?"

"But it wouldn't hurt you to treat the others around here like human beings! Or don't you think you're facing equals with the right for an own opinion here?"

Remus' voice had grown steadily louder and he had gotten up from his chair, but Snape only seemed to feel encouraged by that. His sneer widened and he made a step towards where Remus was standing.

"Unfortunately I can't adopt the famous 'Devil may care' attitude a certain former inhabitant of this house always had, so you'll have to bear with what I have to offer. Be that as it may, as Black is certainly in his own private dog-hell already and you are anything _but_ a complete human being, there is no reason for me to behave any differently."

One more remark, just one more of those remarks and Remus would not guarantee for anything anymore.

"Don't you dare talking about Sirius like that!"

Snape only shrugged but after a cough from their right both men turned their attention back towards Dumbledore.  
"Gentlemen, please. Could we maybe come back to the topic?"

Dumbledore looked at the seething Remus and then towards Snape again. It didn't take a genius to realize that Remus was close to losing control.

"Severus, please. This definitely is not the appropriate time to discuss things that can't be changed or blamed on anybody."

Snape shrugged, though the sneer never left his face.

"You are right of course, Albus. Especially since it's not Lupin's fault that he's so personally involved in the discussion about whether or not to contact the werewolves. Parents just shouldn't let their children play in the woods after nightfall."

A fragment of a moment later Snape staggered back against the counter by the impact of Remus' left hook. For a moment his knees swayed and he had to hold onto the counter for balance while Remus waved his left hand around and held his aching knuckles. But there was still a blazing anger in his eyes and Kingsley lost no time to position himself in front of Remus in case he attacked Snape again. But Remus obviously didn't think about getting into any kind of physical brawl with him.

Nobody in the room had ever seen Remus lose control like that – to the point that he actually resorted to physical violence – and even Dumbledore was caught in a moment of stunned silence. It was Remus who broke the silence first.

"Don't ever say that again, Severus! Don't ever dare to, I won't be held responsible for my actions!"

And he freed himself from Kingsley's grasp on his upper arm and stormed out of the room. Everybody was looking after him with slightly stunned expressions, with the exception of Snape who was leaning against the counter and rubbed his aching jaw. It took only one look from the old headmaster to suddenly remind every other person in the room that the meeting was over and they had important business elsewhere in the house. Most of them knew Remus' and Snape's verbal sparring matches, and though they could be enjoyable to listen to at times, this was a whole different level of them.

After the room had cleared Dumbledore led Snape towards the table and gestured him to take a seat. The younger man was about to protest, but with a firm grip on his shoulder Dumbledore pressed him down.

"If you want an apology you're not going to get it, Albus", Snape grunted out between clenched teeth.

Dumbledore smiled gently and took a moment to examine Snape's jaw before he answered. Snape hardly ever called him by his first name, and never when they were not alone.

"If anybody, Remus is the one you should be apologizing to, Severus. Not me."

Snape laughed harshly, which was somewhat muffled as Dumbledore took the moment to perform a healing charm on the rather large bruise that was already starting to show. Snape gingerly fingered his jaw and nodded his thanks at Dumbledore.

"The day I start apologizing to him is the day he won't transform on a full moon night."

Dumbledore sat down on the opposite side of the table and simply looked at Snape for a moment.

"You've gone too far, Severus."

Snape shook his head vividly.

"Don't start this on me, Albus. You know that I respect your opinion, but that doesn't mean I need to think about what you think of everything I do."

"Severus, I don't care what yours and Remus' relationship is, and it doesn't matter that it's been the two of you and not anybody else who lost control like that. Whoever is responsible or to blame, we simply cannot afford to go at each other's throat as well. There is enough we have to fight against, if we can't face that as a united front then we have already lost. Don't think I don't know what you are doing for Remus, or that I don't appreciate it, I only tell you that this time you've gone too far."

"What do you mean '_you know what I'm doing for Lupin_'? I'm not doing anything, especially not for him! Nothing except from telling him that he's useless ever since Black was stupid enough to get himself killed."

Dumbledore chuckled lowly.

"Severus, I would have expected that you do not pretend to be the heartless man most people make you out to be. At least not in front of me. I know very well that while you held no warm feelings for Sirius you do not detest Remus as much as you pretend to. You would never let him know of course, and he doesn't expect you to act any differently than you do, but I know that it's not so."

"Would you care to enlighten me what this is supposed to mean?"

"That means I know you are so increasingly antagonistic and towards him lately to keep him on his toes, to keep him from brooding and give him something else to think about. And – even though you will deny this – I know that you have taken up on that role so that Remus can vent his anger out on you instead of somebody else who maybe can't take it as well as you do." He chuckled again. "Sometimes it would do you good not to forget how well I know you."

Snape shook his head and got up from his seat.

"Think whatever you want, I don't have time for such a conversation. But if he ever as much as looks at me wrongly again, I won't hesitate to draw my wand. Tell him that."

Snape stormed out of the kitchen not much unlike Remus had done earlier, and Dumbledore smiled calmly. He knew he had hit a nerve with what he had said, otherwise Severus would not have acted as he had done. Actually he was glad that Severus had taken up the task of being Remus' verbal punching-ball, but he knew that his former student would not appreciate it if he told him that.

But still, this time Severus had gone too far and he'd better go and have a look at Remus. Remus wasn't in the best of moods anyway, and with Severus acting like he had done…with a sigh the old headmaster rose and walked towards the door. He was worried about Remus, and this worry had increased dramatically during the past days. He had noticed that his former pupil was neither sleeping nor eating properly, and while he understood Remus' grief for what he had lost, he would not sit back and watch it destroy the younger man. Sirius' death had not only been the death of a very good friend for Remus, Dumbledore knew that. With Sirius, the last reminder of Remus' happier days had passed away, and this was eating away at him. There didn't seem to be anything he deemed worth holding onto in the present, and that alarmed the headmaster. He'd need to find out how to possibly help him, and now might be the best moment to start.

As he reached Remus' door, sounds which he could not immediately place reached his ears. He knocked, but as he received no answer opened the door anyway.

Remus was bent over a suitcase that stood on his bed and was carelessly packing things together. His clothes were already in the suitcase, and now he started leafing through a stack of books on the desk, sorting it into two piles. He didn't even look up, though he must have heard Dumbledore come in.

"Remus?"

Remus didn't answer, instead he turned towards the desk and packed up some parchments.

"Remus, please talk to me."

Remus turned around towards Dumbledore and fixed him with an angry glare.

"I'm done with talking."

He brushed past the old wizard and took a robe from the hook behind the door.

"Remus, you know what Severus is like, don't you? What do you want to do, just leave headquarters and the Order because he said that?"

"No, I'm leaving headquarters and the Order because I'm useless anyway. I'm just a werewolf, a creature of the dark. You'll all be better off without me."

Dumbledore made a step forward into the room and tried to fix Remus with his stare.

"You know that this is not true, Remus. It is not now and it never has been. And I know this is not the reason why you react like you do right now."

Remus didn't answer. He was standing in front of the shelf next to the window, a picture frame in his slightly shaking hands. He was biting his lips, his eyes fixed on the frozen image of the past. He hadn't even wanted to look at the picture now, he had banned it onto the shelf first thing after Sirius' death. He hadn't thought about it anymore until he had started searching the shelf for things he needed to pack. Bonelessly, he sank down onto the bed and after a moment Dumbledore sat down beside him. The old wizard looked at the framed picture and found a group of faces smile and wave back at him. A younger image of Remus was standing on the left, and next to him were all his friends, laughing cheerfully. Looking over the faces, Dumbledore realized that except from Remus and the small baby in Lily's arms – Harry – nobody on that picture was alive anymore today. Peter Pettigrew was not on the picture, though, but if Dumbledore remembered right he had mostly been the one to operate the camera on those occasions.

"I have simply lost too much, Albus."

Remus' voice was nearly too low to hear.

"I just can't continue like that, not if it doesn't make any sense."

He turned his head and looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. The raw pain reflected there made Dumbledore's throat constrict painfully. He knew how much had been demanded from the younger man throughout his life, and he asked himself if Remus wasn't right and this time it had simply been too much.

"It's not what just happened in the kitchen. It's more than just a fight with Severus. Is there still a sense in all that, Albus? Is there still a sense in all that talking, meeting, planning? That's all we do lately, there's nothing we're achieving. Is there still a sense in all that? Because if there is, I can't see it."

Dumbledore took his time in answering, knowing that Remus would not believe any platitude from him.

"It is difficult to see what good our actions do when the people we love suffer and die nevertheless. We have all lost somebody to the war, Remus, but if we just give up fighting then their deaths become even more senseless. Do you think Sirius would have wanted you to give up?"

"Don't!" Remus jumped to his feet. "Don't, Albus! I can take much, but I can't take _that_! Sirius is dead, and what he would have thought, said, done or wanted is of no importance at all. It's unfair and uncalled for that you say something like that!"

Dumbledore shook his head as he watched Remus pace up and down the room.

"I'm sorry, Remus. But I want you to think about it again before you pack your things and leave. There is much that needs to be done and we need you."

Remus leaned against the windowsill with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He shook his head wearily.

"I just can't, Albus. I don't have the strength to go on like that. I'm tired, Albus. _Tired_. Burnt out. I have lost everything that mattered in my life, every person I cared for. I simply see no reason to go through all this again when the last time nearly killed me. I don't need any more sleepless nights, no more fighting against the inevitable. I can't bear this anymore and I don't see any reason why I should force myself to."

"There is Harry, for one."

Remus shook his head again and laughed.

"Harry has Molly and her family, he has you and half of the wizarding world to look after him. He didn't even know me for most of his life and even now I'm the everlasting 'Professor' for him. He doesn't need a guilt-ridden werewolf in whose proximity people frequently die way before their time, certainly not."

"You still have your family to think of."

"My brother can very well take care of himself. He's in the middle of this war anyway, whatever I do. And my father is living safely in France, far away from Voldemort and the Death Eaters."

"For now."

Remus threw his hands in the air in exasperation and went over towards his suitcase again, running his hands over the lid as if he didn't know whether to open it up or not. He wrung his hands for a few moments, then ran his index finger across the back of his right hand.

"Albus, if you're trying to make me feel guilty for leaving then you can as well give up now. I'm past the point where I still care about whether I feel guilty or not. Is it so wrong that for once in my life I'm putting my own life above the welfare of the entire wizarding world? Don't you think I have earned that?"

"Of course you have, Remus. And if you ever felt that I was forcing you to put your own life in the background then please believe me that this was never intended. But we _need_ you, Remus."

Remus shook his head and turned to look out of the window.

"I don't think so, Albus. I'm not very useful when it comes to leading a war. Just admit it, Albus. Harry doesn't need me and the Order would be better off with Sirius instead of me as well. There wouldn't be all those problems if I had fallen through that veil instead of Sirius."

"So you plan on leaving everything that needs to be done – now more than never – behind, hide yourself again and wallow in self-pity and guilt, isn't it?" Dumbledore's voice was sharp now and he rose from where he had been sitting on the bed. "Because I can very well remember how this didn't help you any the last time you tried it. Life has been hard on you, Remus. I don't deny that. It has probably been harder on you than on most other people I know. But that doesn't mean you're the only one who is suffering. We all are, in our own way, and if we all ran away from facing it we would lose this war before it even really begins. I for one am not willing to accept that as a possibility. Don't you think I know how you feel? Don't you think Severus knows it, or Harry?"

"I'm simply fed up with being strong, Albus. There is only so much hurt a person can take, and I'm well beyond my limit. What's next? Who is next to die, can you tell me that? Harry? Molly? Kingsley? You, Minerva or Severus? And what then, pushing the grief aside and keeping on fighting this hopeless war, just like we always did? Because I can tell you, no matter how much you push things aside, they catch up with you anyway. And it just gets harder and harder to bear it. Sirius is gone and so are James and Lily. Peter is as good as dead as far as I'm concerned, and I'm weary. Weary of death, weary of fighting. Weary of _life_."

A tear escaped Remus' eye and made its way down his cheek. He looked up at the ceiling and wiped it away, but it was as if a dam inside of him had broken. Remus had not cried in a long time, even after Sirius' death he had kept the tears at bay and had fought his grief into the back of his mind where it had been a constant nagging pain, but he had not cried once. Had not allowed himself to cry. Now the tears simply overflowed, ran down his face beyond his ability to hold them back and Remus bit his lower lip hard to keep himself from sobbing out loud. Dumbledore silently stepped towards him, gently wrapped his arms around the younger but slightly taller man and allowed him to cry into his shoulder. Remus held on tightly and finally let all his pent up emotions spill over, not allowing himself to think about the fact that he was a grown up man sobbing into Dumbledore's shoulder like a small child. Dumbledore simply held him, he didn't say a word, he didn't try to soothe or comfort him. He merely gave Remus a shoulder to cry on and the knowledge that Remus didn't need to say anything now or anytime later, not if he didn't want to.

Remus didn't know for how long he cried, how long it took him to let go off his anger and grief through his tears, but after what seemed like an eternity he finally had no tears left to cry. Hesitantly, he let go off Dumbledore, wiped his eyes with his sleeve and forced himself to smile at the old wizard.

"Sorry."

Dumbledore only shook his head and led Remus over towards the bed. He placed the suitcase on the floor and gently pushed Remus down on the mattress.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Remus. But do me one favour."

"Which?"

"Don't leave tonight. Please take a Sleeping potion and at least for once get more than three hours of sleep at night. And don't look at me like that, of course I have known that you were not sleeping much. I might be old, but I'm not blind. Let's talk tomorrow morning again. If you still want to leave then, I won't stop you, but please don't make this decision now, when you're exhausted and upset. I don't want to see you harmed or hurt even more."

Remus tiredly sank down on the bed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"No Sleeping potion, Albus. Last time I took that stuff, it was hard enough to sleep without it anymore."

Dumbledore smiled gently and placed a hand on Remus' forehead, much like he might have done to soothe a small child.

"Just tonight, Remus. You have managed for long enough without any help, but your body needs some rest. I will fetch you some."

He turned towards the door and left for the bathroom. After a minute he returned with a bottle in his hand and handed it over to Remus. The younger man swallowed the potion wordlessly and allowed Dumbledore to take the bottle out of his hand again.

"Sleep now, Remus. We will talk some more tomorrow."

Remus nodded.

"Thank you, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled again.

"You're perfectly welcome, Remus. Good night."

"Good night, Albus."


	13. A Difficult Parting

**Chapter 13 – A Difficult Parting**

When Remus woke up the next morning he had a blazing headache and slight problems to remember where he was and how he had gotten there – his classic reaction to taking a sleeping potion. The headache would subside in the next half hour, that much he knew, and looking over the clothes strewn on the floor around the suitcase he had no problems remembering where he was and what had happened anymore.

With a sigh he pushed himself out of the bed and walked across the corridor into the bathroom. Nothing like a long hot shower to start another unpleasant day.

It irked him a bit to admit it, but Albus had been right. Getting more than a couple of hours light sleep had done him a world of good this night. He felt better than he had in a long time, though he knew it was still miles away from what he would define as feeling good. He had been miles away from that feeling ever since Sirius had died. To be precise, he had not felt _really_ good ever since the nightmare of the first war had started all those years ago.

Nevertheless, the potion had helped. One more reason not to take any again. After James' and Lily's death he had learned the hard way that sleeping potions did not take away the nightmares or worries at night, they only delayed them until the time when the potion was no longer taken. Which could be quite a long time considering that those potions – especially the stronger ones – were highly addictive. No, Remus had absolutely no intention to repeat his struggle from back then, the constant battle between not sleeping at all and buying his sleep at a probably very high prize.

When Remus returned to his room after an indeed very long hot shower he was not in the slightest surprised to find Albus Dumbledore sitting in the armchair next to the window, waiting for him. Remus greeted him with a nod of the head, but took his time with placing his clothes on a chair and sitting down on another one before he turned his attention to the old wizard again.

"Good morning, Albus."  
"Good morning, Remus. I trust you slept well for a change?"  
Remus nodded.

"Yes, I did indeed."

A silence settled between the two men for some minutes. Remus didn't break it, in fact he was waiting for Dumbledore to do so, knowing fully well what the headmaster had come to see him for. Only he didn't know what he would say, not even what he should think.

"Do you still plan on leaving, Remus?"  
Remus shrugged half-heartedly and tilted his head to the side.

"Truth be told? I don't know, Albus. I simply don't know. I haven't come to completely new conclusions if that's what you mean. I'm still weary and I still don't see any sense in going on, but on the other hand I don't know what walking away would help. That war is going to get to all of us sooner or later, maybe it's better not to run away from it. Maybe it's better to get it over and done with as soon as possible."

Dumbledore watched Remus for a long time, his blue eyes not betraying what was going on in his mind.

"Did you know that nearly sixteen years back, James came to me with quite a similar problem?"

Remus raised his head, astonishment showing clearly on his face.

"What kind of problem?"  
"That he didn't know what the sense in going on was."

Remus frowned, trying to imagine that being possible. Not James, his friend had always been so sure of himself and of his aims in life, Remus simply could not imagine him seeking out Dumbledore in a moment of crisis. It surprised him a bit that James had not gone to Sirius in such a situation, but then again Sirius had not been the best counsellor when it came to reason. Sirius had been a good listener, no doubt about that, and he had loved James dearly, but there was something about Sirius – his honest conviction that no matter what it was, but _doing_ something was absolutely necessary, maybe even his devil-may-care attitude – but Sirius had not been the ideal partner to talk about fears and doubts like the ones Remus was experiencing now. Sirius probably never had had those doubts and fears, and even if he had had them he had never let them show. Remus understood that there were some things James might have sought someone else out for to talk about.

"It was a couple of days after Sirius and you got into that ambush and nearly died. James came to see me at Hogwarts, completely beside himself. I don't think he really sought my advice, he merely searched for somebody to listen to him and tell him whether he was being completely unreasonable, and in the end he gave him all the answers himself. Seeing two of his closest friends knock on death's door seemingly led him to think about the war and his role in it all."  
"What did he say?"  
Despite Remus' inability to imagine this, what Dumbledore had said had sparked his curiosity.

"He said that he didn't see the sense in fighting this was every day without the hope of it ever being over. Without a single trace of hope that we'd succeed. It was the first time I heard James admit that he was actually afraid of what could happen to Lily, Harry or him. Or to his friends. He said over and over again that now with Harry born making sure the child was safe was his priority and that he could not guarantee that in a war-ridden country. James actually said something about leaving England."  
"He did?"  
Remus' eyebrows shot up. He had never heard James utter such a thought aloud, not even when the war desperation had been at its peak. Dumbledore nodded.

"He did indeed. He told me every single argument he could find for why it would be better just to leave the country and raise Harry somewhere safe. And it didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that this would be exactly the wrong thing to do.

Remus, what we are doing here is not only trying to save our world. Back then as well as today it is our only choice to fight this war because we owe it, if not to ourselves then to our children. James saw that he could not run away from a problem that would catch up with him – and thus with Harry – sooner or later anyway. He saw the need to fight Voldemort for as long as he could because that was the only way to guarantee Harry a safe future. And not only Harry.

I know that you don't have children, and maybe you have even been partially right with what you said about Harry last night. The two of you might not be close, he might have others who care for him, but that doesn't mean that you don't have any responsibility towards him. Or towards your former students. Or am I wrong in assuming that you were the one to teach them that standing up against something that is wrong might be the only choice that is left to us, and if it was then we had to do it, no matter how insignificant the changes we could achieve might seem? I see those children every day during the school year and I for one am not ready to leave a single one of them unprotected in a world in which Voldemort is still alive. I don't know if I'll be able to change something, I don't know if we will manage to kill Voldemort, I simply don't know it, Remus. Nobody does, and nobody can make promises. But we have to try it."

"And all end up as martyrs like James?"

Again, Dumbledore only looked at Remus.

"James is no martyr, Remus, and he never was. He didn't chose to die like that so that people would remember his name and draw strength from the memory of what he went through. James is a victim, no matter what the press made out of his and Lily's death after Voldemort vanished. Had it not been for Lily's protection over Harry that brought Voldemort down, had it not been for all the media attention after that Halloween night, things would have looked different. For somebody who was not his friend – unlike you – James would have been merely another faceless name on the list of Voldemort's victims. That's what Voldemort reduces us to if we allow him to continue. That is what you become if you give up now."

Remus allowed that thought to settle in his mind, letting it roll around in search of a possible answer to it, but Dumbledore continued.

"I remember that I once told Harry the same thing I told James back when he sought me out. Harry and I were talking about Voldemort and why people chose to follow him, and I told him that for all of us there comes a point when we have to chose between what is right and what is easy. I don't think Harry truly understood it, I don't think he can understand it before he himself is faced with the impact of what that could mean. But I think you do know that very well, don't you Remus? Because you have been faced with that question more than once in your life, and now you are faced with it again. Running away and leaving others to deal with the problems is the easy choice, but I doubt it is the right one. As much as I doubt that you are somebody who could live with choosing the easy over the right."

Remus leaned back in his chair and covered his face with his hands.

"And what if I stay? What would it change?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I'm not a clairvoyant, Remus. I only know that _I_ think it would be better for you if you stayed here. And I think it would be better for the Order as well. But the choice is yours, Remus. If you fail to see the reason of fighting against Voldemort, then nobody here can stop you."

Remus laughed harshly and let his hands drop into his lap.

"It's not that I fail to see the reasons, Albus. I know why Voldemort must not be allowed to succeed, if somebody knows then it's me. I simply don't know how useful I can be here. Let's face it, we've danced around without mentioning it since yesterday evening. I am a scholar, not a fighter. I am not of much use when it comes to battling Death Eaters or infiltrating Voldemort's ranks, there are many others who are far more useful when it comes to that. And I don't really have a secure standing here in the Order. Severus despises me, he distrusts me. And knowing how important Severus is in all our plans I simply think it would be wiser for me to leave. You cannot deny that Sirius would have been of more use for everybody if he was still alive. If he had not been locked up in this house he hated for an entire year without the chance to prove himself useful."

Dumbledore nodded and leaned forward, his hands lying folded in his lap.

"I see. That is the core of the problem, isn't it? Because I'd prefer it if we talked openly about it if it is. It isn't about Severus, because you know Severus for long enough now to know exactly why he is saying what he does and why he is behaving the way he does. If you think about leaving because of Sirius, then let us talk about that."  
"Fine, let us talk about it, Albus." Remus' words came out more harsh than he had intended them to, but somehow it felt right. Albus was right, that was the core of Remus' problems.

"Can't you imagine that it is not easy for me to live in this house, to be in this Order and be constantly reminded of what happened to Sirius? I know you are perceptive, so you surely have realized what was going on with him, how he suffered from not being able to do anything for a whole year! You know what Sirius was like, you knew he _needed_ to do something otherwise he went ballistic. But still you insisted on him staying caged in here, you insisted that he stayed and didn't even give him a menial task to keep him occupied! And he followed your instructions because he trusted you, because he was convinced that you were wise enough to know why you ordered those things. But please tell me if you really did. Just tell me that. Tell me if it had any sense to keep Sirius caged until the moment came when he couldn't restrain himself anymore and stormed out straight into his death!"  
"What else should I have done, Remus? Because if you think I did that to punish Sirius for something you are badly mistaken. But look what happened the first time he left the house. Lucius Malfoy recognized him at King's Cross, and if he knew about Padfoot then it's safe to assume that the other Death Eaters did as well. Should I have allowed Sirius to roam around freely and let him get arrested or killed?"

"Doesn't make much difference now, does it?"  
"That was uncalled for, Remus."

Remus only shrugged, but didn't say anything. After a long moment, Dumbledore continued.

"I knew Sirius. Not as well as you, but I knew him. And I knew about the vices he carried within him." Seeing that Remus was about to interrupt, he raised a hand. "No, you can't deny that, Remus. Sirius was not perfect, but then again none of us is. He also had many good and strong traits, and nobody regrets more than me that he could not prove them during the last year. But Sirius was rash at times, he followed his instincts more often than he took the time to think his actions through before he started to act. Tell me, what good would it have done to have him walk around freely? I only tried to keep him _alive_, though you might doubt that now. I admit that it might have been a mistake to restrain him to this house, but do you really think I would have done it had there been another choice? I was convinced I was doing the right thing, I was convinced that I did what was best to keep him alive.

I made mistakes, Remus, and maybe it was a mistake to order Sirius to stay put for an entire year, but I simply did not have any other choice. I grieve for him as well, but unlike you I don't let my grief consume me."  
Remus snorted.  
"No, you just put him aside as collateral damage. It happens, it's sad, but let's not think about it anymore and simply continue with our everyday-life. That might work for you, but I just can't."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"It's not that easy, but if it helps you I won't stop you from thinking it is. For one, I wasn't as close to him as you were, but more importantly there are many people relying on me to carry on, and that is what I do. That is what I have to do to redeem myself, in front of Harry, in front of you."

"Because in the end every means is justified?"  
Dumbledore sighed wearily.  
"No. It never is, and Sirius was never just a means to me, Remus. But if we win this war, then maybe his death is not as senseless as it seems now. Maybe then Cedric Diggory's death will not be as senseless, and every other death that happened because of Voldemort. It's that hope that keeps me going on, Remus. A very thin thread, but it's enough to keep me going on with what I do. I can't stop you from blaming me, but I ask you not to think of me as a heartless man who is willing to sacrifice everybody in order to achieve my goals. There are people I care about, people I don't want to see hurt or harmed. That is why I'm sitting here with you now, Remus. That is why I did what I did to try and keep Sirius safe. I'm sorry if you see it differently."

Remus got up from his chair and stepped over towards the window. With his arms crossed behind his back he stared out into the misty and cloudy London morning for long minutes. Dumbledore watched him equally motionless, his blue eyes resting on the back of Remus' head. After a long time Remus finally sighed loudly and shook his head, then he turned around and looked straight at his former headmaster.

"I'm sorry, but I simply can't stay here, Albus. I just can't. Not in this house, not after what happened to Sirius. I…I'm hurt Albus. Probably worse than ever before, and I simply am not myself anymore. A huge part of me is torn and bleeding, and that has weakened me to the point where I am neither useful nor reliable anymore. It will be the best for everybody involved."

"Also for you?"

Remus met Dumbledore's gaze and held it, then he nodded.

"Yes, also for me."

He turned around and picked up the discarded robes from the day before again, placed the suitcase on the bed and resumed his packing. Dumbledore watched him, then seemed to think for a moment before he made a step forward.

"I have another proposition to make." As Remus didn't answer, he stepped beside him and tried to catch his eyes again. Remus stubbornly refused to look at the older wizard.

"Now that Dolores Umbridge has unfortunately left our staff, Hogwarts needs a new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor…"

"Stop it", Remus turned around and stared at Dumbledore, his jaw set, hands balled to fists at his sides and his breathing suddenly harsh and short. "Stop it right now. We won't talk any further about this. The last time I taught at Hogwarts I nearly killed three students. I won't takes such a risk again. As soon as I have packed my stuff I will leave. I'm sorry Albus, but there is no other way."

With that, he forcefully slammed the lid of the suitcase shut, signalling in no uncertain terms that the conversation was over for him.

"You will let me know where to reach you?"

Remus waited for a long moment before he finally nodded. "Yes, I will. In any case, my father will know."

"Good. Thank you, Remus." Dumbledore turned around and silently left the room. Remus continued to stare blankly ahead even after the door had closed, fighting down his urge to scream out loud. When he had calmed down enough he took another look around the room, searching for things he might have forgotten. His eyes fell onto the picture on the shelf again, the one he had been looking at only last night, and with slightly shaking hands he took it down again. For a long moment he contemplated taking it with him, but then he put it back on the shelf again. That picture was a part of his past, a past he no longer wanted to remember because he could not stand the pain it brought. With one last look through the room that had once belonged to his childhood friend, Remus picked up his suitcase and went towards the door.  
On top of the staircase Remus halted for a moment because he suddenly felt slightly dizzy again. Gripping the handrail tightly with his right hand he waited for the moment of vertigo to pass. For maybe two or three minutes he stood on top of the stairs, his eyes closed tightly and holding his balance with his hand before he could straighten again with only a tickling feeling behind his temples.

That much for taking sleeping potions, he thought. A couple of hours of really restful sleep were fine enough, but not if he was feeling wobbly all day afterwards. Picking up his suitcase again Remus began to descend the stairs, slightly slower than he would have done normally, and his hand firmly on the handrail to keep his balance should the dizziness return. On the first landing he stopped for a moment and shook his head, but the stinging sensation and the slight tickle behind his temples did not vanish again. Well, he would lie down once he came home. Hopefully he would meet nobody on his way towards the front door, he had absolutely no need for any more explanations or lengthy good-byes.

On the last set of stairs, just as he had passed the last landing and had prepared himself to leave quietly as not to wake the blasted portrait of Sirius' mother, suddenly an icy feeling spread through his body and his chest started to feel as if somebody was squeezing his lungs together with an iron grip. Remus tried to straighten up, tried to breathe deeply, but though he felt the air leave his lungs he could not seem to draw any breath. His right hand automatically moved from the handrail towards his throat as if that could free him from whatever was choking him, but at that moment his knees gave out beneath him and he lost his balance. Clenched up tightly into a ball, Remus fell down the stairs, crashing hard into the umbrella stand on the foot end and knocking it over. Just as Remus came to rest motionless on the tiled floor, the portrait of Mrs. Black woke up from all that ruckus and started to yell.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

After his conversation with Remus, Dumbledore slowly descended the stairs and went into the basement kitchen. It grieved him that he had not been able to convince Remus to stay here in headquarters, and it grieved him even more to see how much the younger man was hurting. Dumbledore didn't begrudge Remus because he thought him guilty for a large part of what had happened, and he didn't begrudge him for being as angry as he was. Merlin knew that if he could do something to make it easier for Remus he would not hesitate to do it. But things had happened the way they had and now he was completely unable to do something to change the situation again.

But nevertheless Dumbledore didn't like the thought of Remus being all alone with his grief, locking himself up in his secluded cottage in Kent. Remus was strong, extraordinarily so, but Dumbledore knew that this situation would probably break him. He had seen Remus after James and Lily had died all those years ago, he had been there when from one day to the next the young werewolf had been all that was left of his circle of friends. Back then he had already taken a very long time to get over it, and there had been moments when Dumbledore had been afraid that Remus had given up on life completely. He had not been able to do much for him back then, especially because Remus had refused to accept any kind of help, and he knew that this time it would certainly not get better on its own. He had seen Remus after his last month's transformation and the image had been too frighteningly similar to how the wolf had mauled Remus fifteen years ago after the first war.

But Remus was a grown man and very able to make his own decisions, so Dumbledore knew if he had chosen to leave there was nothing he could do to keep him.

With a huge mental sigh Dumbledore opened the door to the kitchen and went over to where Molly Weasley was sitting on the kitchen table together with Tonks, Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Good morning Molly. Harry, Ron, Hermione."

"Good morning, Albus." Molly summoned the teapot and a cup towards the table and poured the headmaster a cup.

"Thank you, Molly."

"You're welcome, Albus. Good that you're dropping by, Hermione's parents sent an owl this morning."

Dumbledore rose an eyebrow.

"No bad news, I hope."

Hermione shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. They wanted to tell me about our holiday to France. They invited Ginny to come with us, and now they wrote that they want to leave tomorrow morning."

"And for that of course we have to get the two girls to the Granger's house tomorrow", Mrs. Weasley added. Dumbledore nodded.

"I see. Well, that shouldn't pose too much of a problem. How are your parents planning to get to France?"

"By car. They want to take the ferry across the channel, from Dover."

"Then we either bring you somewhere where your parents can fetch you tomorrow morning, or we send somebody, Bill and Charlie maybe, along to accompany you to the ferry and you meet your parents there. There's a good floo connection to the Dover area, it shouldn't pose that much of a problem."

Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands. "Good. Hermione dear, why don't you write back to your parents now and tell them to send notice of when they want to take the ferry tomorrow, and we'll bring you there."

Hermione nodded. "I will, thank you."

Mrs. Weasley watched Dumbledore attentively. "Did you talk to Remus already?"

Dumbledore sighed loudly and nodded. That reaction peaked Harry's curiosity, who until now had been sitting silently between Tonks and Ron. He had not seen Remus since breakfast yesterday, but he had not noticed that something had happened since then. Yet this was exactly what Dumbledore's behaviour suggested. Dumbledore seemingly hesitated for a moment, and Harry didn't quite know whether this was because he, Ron and Hermione were in the room. Tonks had also turned around so that she was facing Dumbledore as well, and one of her eyebrows had nearly disappeared beneath her ink-black fringe.

"I talked to Remus", Dumbledore said at last. "And at the moment he's packing his things."

"He's leaving?", Mrs. Weasley asked incredulously, beating Harry to ask the same question by a mere second. Ron's mouth stood open and Hermione's brow was furrowed as both of them tried to digest that newest piece of information.

"But…I mean, why?", Harry asked when he found his voice again.  
"That is a question you will have to ask Remus himself, Harry. I'm afraid I can't answer it."

"But he can't just leave like that! What about the Order, what about everything he's been working for? He can't just leave like that!"

And unspoken and probably not even consciously in the back of his mind, they question 'What about me?' popped up. Harry knew that Remus neither had to ask for his permission nor had to inform him about any decision he made, but the thought that Remus was leaving the Order just like that, all of a sudden and without telling him about it stung a little.

"It's his free choice, Harry. Nobody is forced or should feel obliged to stay here. I regret that Remus has decided to leave, but it is his choice and if he thinks it's for the better for him, then I won't stand in his way."

Harry shook his head, unwilling to accept that as an answer to his question, but even as he opened his mouth to say something else, there was a loud crashing sound from upstairs. Something fell to the floor with a low 'thud', something else fell over with a loud crash, and after a short moment of silence, Mrs. Black's portrait began to yell. The six occupants in the kitchen looked at each other for a moment, each of them completely unable to come up with an explanation for that noise. As one, they rose to their feet and went over towards the kitchen door.

"We'd better have a look at what is going on there." Dumbledore left the kitchen first, his wand firmly in his right hand, and the others followed out. As soon as they entered the stairs and moved upwards they could hear clearly what Mrs. Black was screeching.

"_Half-breeds and mudbloods! Now that the blood traitor, the shame of my blood is dead they still bring that filth into our noble house! Get that piece of filth away before it ends its pitiful existence in my hallway! Traitors and mudbloods, half-breeds and spawn of blood-traitors soiling our noble house! Such a shame!_"

Below the portrait, under the disgusted gaze of Sirius' mother, they found Remus lying curled up into a tight ball, his body shaken by cramps, his head bleeding from a wound above his right eyebrow and his breathing harsh and flat, wheezing sounds accompanying every breath he took. There was sweat on his face and all the colour seemed to have drained from his skin, leaving it pale and clammy.

Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley immediately hurried over to where he was lying while Ron, Hermione and Tonks went to the portrait and desperately tried to get the curtains shut to stop Mrs. Black from screaming. On her way, Tonks nearly fell over the upturned umbrella stand which Remus had knocked over in his fall, and as she gripped for something to hold on to in her fall she nearly ripped one of the curtains in front of Mrs. Black's portrait off. But this time there was no reprimand for her clumsiness, instead she and Hermione took hold of one curtain while Ron tried to close the other. After some endless moments they finally managed it and the shrill shrieks first continued slightly muffled, then were drowned out completely. As they turned around, they found Molly and Dumbledore kneeling next to where Remus was still lying in the same position. Harry was standing behind them, pale as a wraith, staring down at his former teacher's unconscious form.  
"What is wrong with him?"

Tonks fell to her knees beside Molly, her pale face standing out extremely against her jet-black crew cut, today's featured hairstyle. Dumbledore shrugged slightly.

"He is having some sort of seizure, though from what I am completely unable to tell. Tonks, why don't you go into the kitchen again and place a fire-call to Hogwarts. I'd rather have Poppy have a look at him."

Tonks nodded and got up, immediately hurrying down to call the Hogwarts nurse. Harry nervously started biting his thumbnail. He had known that something was wrong with Remus, had known that there was more to the physical signs of exhaustion he had shown than the approaching full moon. And now he found those suspicions confirmed, and found himself worrying more and more about Remus. Shakily, he knelt down next to Dumbledore.

"What is this? Why does this happen to him?"

"I don't know, Harry."

"Has something like this ever happened before?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not that I know of. But don't worry, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to sort it out."

As if on cue the door to the basement kitchen opened at that moment and steps hurried up the stairs.

"Albus?"

Madam Pomfrey came towards them, took in the problem with one short look around and then crouched down next to Remus. "What happened to him?"

"He fell down the stairs, at least I guess he did. We found him like this, I don't know what caused it all."

Maybe it was just Harry's impression, but Remus' cramps seemed to have lessened somewhat over the past moments. Maybe he only imagined it because he wanted them to lessen, he truly didn't know. But there was a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he desperately wanted to hear that Remus would be all right again. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Remus' body once or twice, then she got up from her crouch.

"I'd better get him somewhere else for a closer examination. Is there a bedroom I can use?"

"Remus' bedroom is on the second floor, but for simplicity's sake just use Bill's, it's the first one to the left on the first floor."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and pointed her wand at Remus. "_Mobilis Corpus!_"

"Do you need any help?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and picked up her bag as she levitated Remus a few inches off the ground. "Thank you, but I brought everything I might need. I will call for you if there is something amiss." And with those words, she vanished up the stairs, levitating Remus along in front of her. Harry stared after her retreating form for a long moment, until he felt Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder which gently pushed him into the direction of the kitchen.

"Let's all go downstairs again and wait until Poppy tells us what is wrong with Remus. I don't think it's of any use to stay here in the hallway."

With a last look towards the staircase, Harry nodded and allowed himself to be steered away.


	14. New Worry Rising

**Chapter 14 – New ****Worry********Ri****sing**

The mood in the kitchen for the following thirty minutes was thick with tension. Mrs. Weasley had made tea for all of them and they sat around the kitchen table, silently sipping it and waiting for Madam Pomfrey to bring them news. Though none of the adults wanted to openly admit it, they were all shocked deeply by what had happened to Remus. The fact that nobody had an explanation for his collapse only served to increase their brooding. Of course, Remus had looked rather unhealthy over the past weeks, but what exactly had been the cause of this strange seizure none of them was able to tell.

Nobody spoke, even Ron, Harry and Hermione silently stared into their teacups which Mrs. Weasley had put in front of them immediately after they had sat down. Harry had realized long ago that this was her way of occupying herself whenever she was bothered by something. It was obvious from their expressions that both Ron and Hermione were just was worried about Remus than Harry was, and though surely all of them had their suspicions about what had happened up there in the hallway, nobody dared to utter them aloud until Madam Pomfrey had come down with news.

When the door to the basement kitchen finally opened and the Hogwarts nurse entered, all eyes in the room immediately were on her. Dumbledore got up from his chair and pulled out another one for her while Mrs. Weasley poured another cup of tea.

"Poppy?", Dumbledore asked.

Madam Pomfrey waved a hand and sank down in the chair Dumbledore had pulled up for her. She gratefully accepted the cup of tea Mrs. Weasley handed her and took a deep sip before she spoke.

"He's asleep now, and will probably remain asleep for the next couple of hours. I have given him a sedative."

"What happened?"

"If only I knew", the medi-witch sighed. "He obviously fell down the stairs, that is where the wound on his forehead came from. Head-wounds always bleed rather ghastly, but it wasn't that bad. I've mended the cut and in a few days he can have the scar erased. What worries me more is the reason why he fell down the stairs in the first place."

"Not only you. That is one question I'd like to have answered as well. What happened?"

"To tell you the truth, Albus, I don't know. He had some kind of seizure, and while I was able to treat the symptoms I'm at a loss as to what is the cause."

Dumbledore frowned. "You have absolutely no idea?"

Madam Pomfrey shook he head. "No, I'm sorry. There is no trace of any magical or physical origin I could find. Though I think that Professor Snape should have a look on him, to exclude the possibility of poisoning."

"Who should have an interest in poisoning Professor Lupin?", Hermione asked with a frown on her face.

"I don't know, Ms. Granger, but I want every possibility excluded. This seizure has been hard on Remus, especially since his physical condition is anything but good. I've known Remus for a long time now, and I know that his lycanthropy has always made him more fragile and exhausted at least for the time around full moon, but I've never seen him quite like this."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I know what you mean."

"If you're talking about physical exhaustion to the border of collapse, then yes. And full moon is still over a week away. Did Remus eat or sleep regularly at all over the past weeks?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Hardly. It's not as if nobody noticed, but you know how Remus is on accepting good advice. Last night, though, he took a sleeping potion, so at least today he should have been well-rested."

Madam Pomfrey took another deep sip of her tea and shook her head. "He definitely didn't make the impression to me that he was well-rested, but if you say he took a potion, then I have to assume that the seizure drew far more on him that I had initially anticipated."

"But will he be all right again?", Harry asked, and he didn't like one bit how shaky his voice suddenly sounded.

"I don't see why he shouldn't recover from this morning's events, Mr. Potter. Given that he gets enough rest and starts eating better, he should be all right tomorrow at the latest. But as long as I don't know what caused this seizure, I can't predict whether it will happen again or not. For now, he needs rest. He should wake up later this afternoon, I'll come back to have a look at him then."

"Thank you Poppy, for coming so quickly."

Dumbledore got up with the nurse and guided her over towards the fireplace. "Just let me know if anything about his condition changes, then I'll come over immediately."

And with a last nod at the other occupants in the room, she threw a handful of floo-powder into the flames, stepped into the fire and flooed back to Hogwarts.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus woke up with a blazing headache – again. If this was becoming habitual, then he'd take not sleeping at all into serious consideration. Being tired was one thing, but being tired _and_ having such a headache was too much to bear. Why he was always getting repeat-performances of things he didn't want to experience in the first place – like having his friends die, he thought bitterly – eluded him. But at this moment he could very well do without the headache, thank you very much. Though it was a different kind of headache than the last time. This time it was a dull throbbing behind his right eye, as if somebody was pounding against it from the inside of his skull. Slowly, he opened up one eye, then the other. He was in one of the bedrooms at Grimmauld Place, though not in his own bedroom, that was the first thing he realized. A strange realization, considering that the last thing he remembered was preparing to leave Grimmauld Place. As he struggled to sit up, a well-known voice interrupted him.

"Though it's good to see you awake again, I'd prefer to have you remain lying while I finish my examination."

Remus turned his head, and there she was. Madam Pomfrey in full nurse-modus, the nightmare of every patient. Though Remus liked her a lot on a personal level, he had to admit that he was always a little afraid of her when they found themselves once more in a patient-healer situation. Though Remus could not even remember what had made him her patient this time.

"What happened?", he groaned out as she started brandishing her wand over him.

"You fell down the stairs, that's what happened. I can imagine that your head hurts rather badly right now, I'll give you a potion for it in a moment."

Remus didn't quite understand.

"Fell down the stairs? How? Why?"

"Most probably because you were unconscious. You had some sort of seizure, and though it pains me, I have to admit it, I was unable to find out just what caused it. Which is why we will have a little chat now, how about that?"

With a grunt, Remus sat up in the bed and gratefully accepted the goblet with potion against his headache which Madam Pomfrey handed him. The nurse then sat down next to the bed and looked at Remus intensely.

"Now, what we could find out was that there was no magical origin for your seizure, neither a spell of sorts nor any kind of potion. Which leads me to the question why you collapsed all of a sudden. I have already found out that you neither ate nor slept properly over the past weeks. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Remus scratched his head for a moment before he answered.

"I've not been particularly hungry as of late, that's true. And I did try to sleep, only I could not, at least not as much as I wanted to. That is all there is, really."

Remus didn't tell Madam Pomfrey about the returning nightmares, his constant headaches or his dizziness, his general listlessness or any of the other symptoms that had been plaguing him. He didn't quite know why, it was probably a mixture of embarrassment and the unwillingness to let his weaknesses show in front of others. Besides, he knew that the Hogwarts nurse would only fret even more about him than she did now if he told her about the other symptoms. Madam Pomfrey clearly didn't believe him, but she shook her head and got up from her chair.

"The good news is that you are on the mend, Remus. You should rest as much as possible during the next few days, then you'll be fine in no time."

"And the bad news?"

Madam Pomfrey packed up her bag and put it down on the floor. "The bad news is that I don't know what caused you seizure, and thusly I can't tell you if it might happen again or not, or when it might happen again. I don't particularly like it, but as long as I can't find out the reasons for your collapse, any prediction is out of my ability."

Remus nodded slowly. "I see. But I really think it was just exhaustion catching up with me, I wouldn't want anybody to worry about it overly much."

Madam Pomfrey frowned her brow.

"I doubt that it was simply your body taking the well-deserved rest you didn't give it, Remus. I even have the impression that your condition afterwards was slightly worse than before, even though you've now slept for over eight hours. Albus told me that you had taken a sleeping potion then night before you collapsed, yet when I examined you I had the impression that you had not gotten any rest as of late. Even now you don't seem particularly well-rested to me, and that despite the sleep you had. That and the fact that I can't determine the cause of your seizure is more than enough to worry me. I will come back tomorrow afternoon to have a final look at you, until then I don't want you to leave this bed other than to use the bathroom. Did I make myself clear on that, Remus?"

"Yes ma'am", he responded, feeling every bit like an eleven year old in the Hogwarts infirmary again. As the nurse smiled gently at him and they said their goodbyes, Remus suddenly remembered that if he had his will, he'd no longer be here tomorrow afternoon for her final check-up. He had wanted to leave Grimmauld Place already yesterday, and just the fact that he had collapsed like that should not hold him here for any longer. It had not changed anything about his decision to go away. But maybe he should postpone his leaving until Madam Pomfrey had declared him well again, otherwise she'd hunt him down and personally watch that he got enough rest, no matter if she had to track him down and break into his house to achieve that.

Maybe ten minutes after Madam Pomfrey had left, there was a hesitant knock on his door. Remus didn't quite know if he actually wanted company, but still he sat up straighter in his bed and called the visitor in. The door opened, and Harry appeared, balancing a tray in his hands. He smiled shyly, then carried the tray over towards the bedside table.

"Hello Remus. Madam Pomfrey said that you're awake again, and Mrs. Weasley made you something to eat. I…I thought I could bring it up for her."

"Thank you, Harry."

Remus reached for the cup of tea Harry had brought. "Why don't you sit down?"

Harry nodded and sat on the chair Madam Pomfrey had vacated earlier.

"How are you feeling?"

Remus picked up the bowl with soup Harry had brought and shrugged slightly.

"All right, I think. A bit tired still, but that'll be over soon."

Harry looked rather uncomfortable and he slid from one side to the next on his chair.

"It looked rather bad", he finally said in a low voice. Remus' eyebrows went up. He had not known that Harry had seen him after he had fallen down the stairs.

"I can imagine it did. Poppy said that the cut above my eye bled rather badly. But it looked far worse than it was." He brought up his right hand and gingerly fingered the mended cut just above the eyebrow.

"But what happened?"

"I don't know, Harry. I really don't know. I think felt dizzy, lost my balance and fell, I don't really remember. And nobody seems to know what caused it. But nothing serious happened, and I don't think it would be good if everybody started worrying overly much about me now. It won't necessarily have to happen ever again."

Harry shrugged awkwardly, the way only teenagers can, and looked uncomfortably out of the window. Remus knew that one of Harry's biggest problems had always been speaking his mind in front of adults, but he had always hoped that Harry would lose those reservations in front of him. Harry fidgeted a bit more, then he looked at Remus.

"You've not looked good the entire time since you took me out of hospital and brought me here."

"Why, thank you, Harry."

The teenager blushed and began to apologize, but Remus waved him off.

"I didn't mean it like that, Harry. I know that you're worried, and I really appreciate your concern. But just like you, I've been through a few hard weeks. That has left its marks. I probably haven't taken good care of myself since Sirius died, and now my body has reminded me of that."

Harry didn't look all that convinced, even as Remus tried to give him an encouraging smile. There was something more bothering Harry, that much was obvious to Remus even though he did not know the teenager all that well.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

Again, Harry only shrugged and bit his lip as he tried to decide how to answer that question.

"I can see that there's something going through your head", Remus gently urged. "So if there's anything you want to get off your chest, just shoot ahead."

"Professor Dumbledore…before you fell down the stairs, Professor Dumbledore said that you were packing your things and wanted to leave."

Remus put the half-empty soup bowl away and nodded.

"I see."

"Why?"

"Why I wanted to leave?"

Harry nodded.

"That is difficult to explain, Harry."

"I…I didn't mean to pry. You don't have to tell me, it's your decision if you want to leave. It was just…I thought…well", Harry stuttered before Remus gently waved him off.

"I think you have a right to ask that question, especially since I was about to sneak off without offering anybody except from Albus any explanation at all."

"But it's your business, you don't have to explain anything to me."

"You want to know why I wanted to leave, am I right?"

Another of those teenage-shrugs, which Remus decided to mean 'yes' for now. Remus took another sip of his tea and put his cup away.

"It's a bit difficult for me to see the sense in the Order work at the moment."

That brought a frown to Harry's face and Remus saw that he was about to protest. Probably he was sharing Bill's idealism about the resistance in general and the Order in particular. Bless the idealism of youth, Remus thought with a mental smile. He wished he could once more share those feelings, but life and experience had hardened him against unlimited optimism. He interrupted before Harry could say something.

"It was never about whether it's right or wrong what the Order is doing. I know that Voldemort can't be allowed to succeed, and that we have to do anything to stop him. But that's easier said than done. I know that you've been kept from what the Order is doing and that you would want to know more about its work, but it isn't as spectacular as you imagine it to be. On the contrary. At the moment we're stuck, there's not much we can do and the little we try to achieve doesn't show the results we were hoping for. It's wearing on all of us, and yesterday evening there has been a confrontation which simply made it all boil over. I know that Voldemort has to be fought, only I'm not so sure anymore if I have the strength to do so. That is why I wanted to leave."

"So you wanted to give up working for the Order because its work is stuck at the moment?"

"No, but because this lack of progress is wearing on me. The tension in this house, in the Order is wearing on me. I simply have neither patience nor strength left to go on with that, not right now. And I decided that for once in my life I'd see to my own needs and problems first. That is why I wanted to leave."

"Do you still want to leave?"

Now it was Remus' turn to shrug. "I don't know, Harry. It's not as if everything had changed since this morning."

"But what else would you want to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you leave Grimmauld Place, you have to go somewhere else, and have to do something else. That's what I mean."

Remus shrugged again. "I wanted to go home. I hadn't made any specific plans, if you were asking about that. I just wanted to have some time on my own, to deal with everything that happened."

Harry pulled a face. "Would going away have helped you?"

"I don't know, Harry. I simply don't know. But staying here over the past weeks hasn't helped just one bit, that I know for sure."

Harry pulled one foot onto his chair and rested his chin on top of his knee. Remus saw that Harry was letting his words roll around in his head. After a moment he shook his head.

"If you think it's best for you, then maybe you have to leave."

"You don't sound too convinced of it."

Harry shrugged again. "I don't know. It's hard enough to know what's good for myself at times. Sometimes others have to force me into something and it turns out to be right. Sometimes I refuse to do the right thing because I think it's wrong, or because I plainly refuse to see the truth. So I don't think I can tell you what to do. But…" He shook his head and interrupted himself. "Forget about it."

"No Harry, what did you want to say?"

"I…I just think that maybe the problem is not staying here. Maybe the problem is being here and yet not being here at all."

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I've only been here for a bit more than a week, but during that time I didn't really have the feeling that you were there. You…you were always sitting in your room, or somewhere else with your mind entirely. I don't know if you remember it, when I came here you said that there were people here who were willing to help me if I only asked for it. And I couldn't help but thinking, you know, that maybe you ought to take your own advice to heart. Do you know what I mean?"

Remus thought about it for a moment, then he nodded. "I think so, yes. It's easier said than done, though. A lot of things have happened, Harry, and I'm struggling desperately to deal with them. I am simply searching for the right way to do so."

Harry snorted and put his foot back on the floor. "Like running away?"

"Listen Harry, I know that it was unfair of me to try and sneak off like that. I'm sorry if I offended you with that in any way, I never intended that. But it was no spur-of-the-moment decision, the thought had been on my mind for quite a while already, yesterday's events were just the trigger for my reaction. To be honest, I don't know what I want or what would be best for me. I just don't know, so I think I'll have to try out."

"So you'll leave?", Harry asked, and he didn't know how shaky his voice sounded all of a sudden. Remus either didn't notice or he didn't comment, he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know, Harry. I'll need time to think that through."

Harry nodded slowly, and after a moment he got up from his chair.

"I think I'll go and see what the others are up to. Madam Pomfrey said not to keep you up too long."

A fleeting smile stole across Remus' face.

"Yes, I can imagine that she'd say something like that. Thank you, Harry."

Harry nodded and smiled awkwardly, then he turned around and left the room. Remus sank back in his pillows with an exhausted sigh and let the past conversation roll through his head again. He wondered why he had been so open with Harry, the teenager who had never really learned to see him as more than his former teacher. Today had not been the first time that he had lowered his own defences like that in front of Harry, their conversation about Sirius' death in the muggle hospital was still vividly on his mind. For weeks, people who were close to him had tried to pry through the walls he had built around himself without or with barely any success, but in front of Harry those defences never held up for very long. Though strangely it didn't disturb him all that much. Maybe that was another side-effect of whatever was going on with him right now, because he was normally reluctant to make himself topic of a conversation with anybody, friend or stranger. Not so with Harry.

Remus sighed and turned to his side. As much as he hated to agree with Madam Pomfrey's suggestion, but a little rest might do him good. He might not be able to sleep, but he could try to clear his mind and get some rest.


	15. The Brother

**Chapter 15 – The Brother**

Even if he had wanted it, the rest of the day didn't exactly give Harry the chance to think his conversation with Remus through again. Hermione and Ginny would be leaving early the next morning with Bill and Charlie, and they would be spending two and a half weeks in France, so they'd only be back about a week before school started. For some reason, Ron was rather grumpy about his sister and Hermione leaving, but Harry wisely chose not to ask his best friend whether that was more because of his little sister being alone in a strange country or rather because of the fact that Hermione would be away. He had a strong suspicion that it was the latter, though. There had been a strange tension between Ron and Hermione lately, and though his few experiences with Cho Chang didn't exactly qualify Harry as an expert in the field of love and relationships, he had the feeling that those two would be a lot more at ease if they stopped dancing around each other and finally admitted a few things to themselves and each other.

But for the remaining evening, Harry and his friends withdrew to one of the empty sitting rooms on the first floor with food and drinks and a stack of Exploding Snap cards as well as a chess set. They played a few rounds of games, but as the evening progressed they put the cards and chess board aside and started talking about this and that.

"Will you continue with the DA-meetings next year?", Ginny asked at one point. That caught Harry unprepared. In all honesty, he had not thought about the DA ever since the end of last school year. there had been far too much on his mind, the DA had been the smallest of his worries. Especially since it was still hard for him to see himself as some sort of leading figure in the DA. True, he had taken up that role when it had been about teaching spells to the others, or when it had been about organizing their meetings and everything, but still he didn't see himself as any different than the other DA members. So Ginny's question whether he would continue their meetings caught him a bit on the wrong foot. After all, even if he stopped going to the meetings, the others could surely continue with the DA if they wanted to, couldn't they? As an answer to Ginny's question, he merely shrugged.

"I haven't thought about it yet. Depends, I think. I mean, we can always continue the DA as a club or something. Learning Defence is never bad. But how important it is depends on who will be our next Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, I think. If it's another Dolores Umbridge, then we'll need to continue in any case."

Ginny picked up another treacle tart from the plate they had brought and chewed on it thoughtfully.

"I know a few others from my year who would want to join if we continue. Maybe, if we get a good Defence teacher for once, we could turn it into an official club and get a teacher instruct us." She blushed slightly. "No offence, it's not that you're not instructing us well, but for some more complicated spells and curses it might be better to have somebody teach us who knows them a bit better."

Harry laughed. "No need to apologize, Ginny, I know what you mean. I'm rather comfortable teaching stunning and disarming and the like by now, but my stomach turns a bit at the idea of learning a spell form a book and then trying to teach it to others. I don't even want to think what could go wrong."

"Does anybody know who will be our new Defence teacher?", Ron threw in from the side. "Wouldn't it be cool if Professor Lupin came back? I mean, what would speak against it?"  
Hermione frowned her forehead. "Aside from his lycanthropy? No Ron, that wouldn't work. As long as nobody knew about it, it was fine, but just imagine how the Slytherins would react to him returning. They'd make his life at Hogwarts pure hell, and I doubt that Professor Lupin would put himself through that. Besides, he's the last person who would endanger anybody else by his being a werewolf."

"Pity, he was the best teacher we've had so far."

Harry agreed wholeheartedly with Ron's statement. The idea of having Remus back at Hogwarts to teach was indeed a very appealing one, but he shared Hermione's doubts on that matter. Besides, if Remus was really planning on returning, he'd surely have told him earlier when they had been talking about his plans for the near future.

"Didn't you talk to him earlier today?", Hermione asked Harry. He nodded slowly.

"Yes, I did. He's doing a little better, though he's still pretty exhausted."

"Did he say anything about returning to Hogwarts?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, he didn't. I don't think he's planning on it in any way."

Hermione nodded, a pensieve look on her face. "Did he say anything about why he wanted to leave?"

Remus had indeed been talking about it, but Harry was not entirely sure whether this was something he could share with Ron and Hermione. He normally told them pretty much anything, but this was about Remus' private thoughts, and he didn't' feel comfortable with telling it to others.

"He did", Harry admitted finally after long moments of thought. "Not really much, but he did."

Harry didn't say anything else, and he saw that both Hermione and Ginny nodded in silent understanding. They were perceptive enough to see that though Harry knew something, he didn't feel comfortable sharing that knowledge.

"And, why did he wand to go?"

Then again, perception had never been one of Ron's stronger sides. Harry heaved a sigh and tried to come up with a way to tell his best friend what Hermione and Ginny had immediately understood, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Merlin Ron, how can one single person be as thick as you are? Obviously Harry doesn't want to talk about it."  
"But why?"  
Hermione threw her hands into the air in exasperation.

"Because he might not want to talk about things Professor Lupin told him privately, on a confidential level? That he talks to Harry about it doesn't mean he wants us to know. Otherwise he could as well go and tell us personally, or pin an announcement to the notice board in the kitchen, don't you think?"

Hermione had quickly adopted her famous bossy tone again, and Ron rolled his eyes.

"All right, all right, I got the message. No need to get that snappy with me."

Hermione shook her head. "Sometimes, I'm not all that sure about that, Ron. But let's not get into a fight now."

Ron grunted something which was too low for the others to understand, but he seemed to share Hermione's opinion about not wanting to fight with her. And their little bickering had at least diverted from the topic of Remus' reasons for leaving, and for that Harry was grateful. He quickly dealt the cards for another round of Exploding Snap to keep that diversion up, and Ron and the two girls picked up their cards and played. Nobody mentioned Remus again for the remaining evening.

At half past ten Hermione and Ginny decided to go to bed. They would be up and ready to leave at around six the next morning, a time Ron and Harry had fixedly planned to spend with still being fast asleep. They said their goodbyes, Hermione promised to write them just as they promised to write her if anything happened. Harry and Ron also went to their bedroom after that.

"Isn't it a bit risky to go to France now?", Harry finally asked. The question had just popped up in his mind.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, from what I know everybody is just waiting for something bad to happen, I was just wondering how safe it is to go on holiday now."

"Because of the war?" Ron shrugged. "I guess France is as safe as anywhere, possibly even safer than England right now. And they will stay in contact with us, if anything happens you can bet your wand on Mum making sure that Ginny is safe, no matter if she has to go to France and drag her home herself. But as long as she doesn't worry overly, I don't think we need to, either. After all, they'll be on a muggle holiday, surrounded by muggles, that should keep them safe enough."

Harry nodded as he shrugged out of his clothes and into his pyjamas. Maybe Ron was right, but still he somehow didn't like the idea of two of his friends being so far away while they all just waited for the war to start. What if something happened here while they were away, or worse, what if something happened in France while they were there? Everybody expected something to happen here in England, but though Harry didn't know all that much about it, he guessed that amongst the wizards in France there were surely also Death Eaters there, or at the least people who sympathized with Voldemort. Surely Dumbledore and the Weasleys wouldn't let Hermione and Ginny leave if it was truly dangerous, but Harry could not help but worry about his friends.

He and Ron didn't talk very much that remaining evening, they, too, went to bed rather early. But while soon low snores from Ron's bed announced that he had fallen asleep, Harry remained lying awake for a while longer, staring at the framed picture of Sirius and himself in the dim light that filtered in through the curtains. He missed his godfather badly, a small constant nagging ache somewhere inside of him, but there were moments when missing Sirius became so painful that Harry could hardly breathe. Yet no matter how painful, he could not tear his eyes away from his godfather's image on the nightstand. The photograph was hardly moving, Sirius held baby-Harry cradled against his chest and was simply looking back at the real-life Harry. Harry knew that it was just a photograph, no matter that it moved at times, but he could not help but imagine that his godfather could see him, that Sirius knew what was going on with him and was trying to give him some comfort. And with that somewhat calming thought on his mind, Harry finally drifted off to sleep.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next morning Harry woke up to find Ron still fast asleep next to him. One glance at the clock, though, told him that he had missed Ginny's and Hermione's departure by over an hour. Still, it was already light in the room and next to him Ron was snoring rather loudly, so Harry doubted that he could fall asleep again. With a low groan, he got up, fetched some clothes from the closet and went over into the bathroom. He took a long, hot shower, then got dressed and made himself ready to go downstairs for breakfast. On his way downstairs he came past Remus' room and silently opened the door. By the looks of it, Remus was still sleeping soundly, so Harry quickly closed the door again and continued downstairs. Had Remus been awake they might have breakfasted together, but Harry assumed his former teacher still needed a lot of rest after his collapse. On any other day since Harry had come here, Remus had seemingly been awake for hours already by the time he had gotten up, so Harry assumed that his sleeping in so long had to do with his collapse. And maybe a bit more sleep would take that walking-corpse look which had become so prominent over the past week from his former teacher's features.

Still contemplating Remus' health, he opened the door to the kitchen and went in, nodding his hello at Mrs. Weasley who was standing at the stove. She smiled back at Harry and reached for a plate from the cupboard to make him some breakfast, gesturing for him to sit down at the kitchen table.

Harry did so, but as he was about to pull out the chair he usually sat on, Harry noticed that Dumbledore was sitting at the table as well, his chair tipped back slightly to look at another man who was leaning against the kitchen counter, the long fingers of his right hand curled around a cup of coffee. Harry stepped back a bit, knowing fully well that though his presence in the house was tolerated by most of the Order members, everybody was always making a fuss to keep him away when there were visitors on Order business at Grimmauld Place.

"Good morning, Professor. Sorry, I didn't know that there is a visitor, I can also come back later."

Dumbledore only smiled at Harry.

"Good morning to you, too. But there is no need to apologize, you didn't disturb anything. Harry, may I introduce Janus Lupin to you? He is Remus' brother. Mr. Lupin, this is Harry Potter."

Janus uncurled his right hand from the cup of coffee and stretched it out towards Harry, the palm of his hand still warm from holding the cup.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter."

"Nice to meet you, too."

As they shook hands, Janus' eyes roamed over Harry's head, lingering over the scar on his forehead for a moment longer than most people stared at it. When he released Harry's hand and broke the gaze, Harry could not help but feel a little relieved. Somehow, Janus Lupin gave him the creeps. Harry thought that he didn't like the man very much, though he saw him for the first time today. Just the thought that this was the brother of his once favourite teacher Harry could not really understand.

Though there were slight physical similarities that could not be denied, but only on a second look. Janus' hair was a darker shade of brown, and cut a lot shorter, his eyes were green-brown and not amber like Remus', and he was taller than Remus was – and though Remus wasn't extraordinarily tall, he was by no means a small man. Janus' hair did not really have any grey streaks in it as of yet, but his face showed clearly that he was a couple of years older than Harry's former teacher. But apart from the obvious differences, the two brothers did look alike. The shape of their faces, the nose, their posture, it all looked very similar to Harry. Especially, Harry noticed while shaking Janus' hand, their hands. Naturally, he had never paid overly much attention to Remus' hands, but Janus' long fingered, slim hands looked exactly like he remembered Remus' to look like. Harry might not have noticed it immediately had he not been introduced to Janus, but on a second and closer look there were undeniable similarities between the two. But unlike Remus, Janus had a somewhat threatening presence, he was somebody who made Harry feel intimidated and small in his company. Somehow, Harry had the feeling that Remus' older brother was a dangerous man to cross, far more dangerous than most people he had met so far.

Janus eventually tore his eyes away from Harry, placed his cup onto the kitchen counter and pushed himself in to a fully standing position.

"As I said, Professor, I don't have any idea how I can help you with this problem. I don't know anything that could have caused Remus' seizure, and to be bluntly honest I don't have time to sit around and think of an explanation. Maybe it's because of his lycanthropy, who knows what that can cause. I'm afraid I can't help you there, so if you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave now. I've got work to do."

Dumbledore got up from his chair and stretched out his hand towards Janus.

"Thank you for coming over so quickly nevertheless. Remus' room is on the second floor, in case you want to look after him before you leave."

"He was still asleep by the time I got down here", Harry interrupted. Janus turned his head swiftly into Harry's direction and the teenager felt a shiver run down his spine as those strangely dark-green/light-brown eyes glared at him. After a seemingly endless moment, he looked back at Dumbledore.  
"No, I don't think he'd be particularly pleased to see me. And – as I said – I've got work to do. Good bye, Professor. Mr. Potter, Mrs. Weasley."

Janus nodded into the direction of Harry, then to Mrs. Weasley, and left the kitchen. Harry stared after him for a moment, then shook his head as if to ward of an unpleasant thought. He didn't really know what to think of this strange meeting, and he didn't know what to think of Remus' brother. Why the man had no intention to visit his brother, who was obviously not doing fine, was beyond Harry's understanding.

But before he could spend any more thoughts about this, Dumbledore turned towards him with a slightly strained smile on his face, just as if he was feeling similarly confused as Harry was.

"Well Harry, I'm sure we'll see each other tonight, but for now I have to return to the Ministry."

"Good bye Professor."

"Goodbye Harry. Molly, might I have another word with you upstairs? There is something I need you to give to Bill in case he comes here before I return."

"Of course, Albus."

Mrs. Weasley placed a sandwich in front of Harry, and before he could even say thank you she vanished out of the door behind Dumbledore. Suddenly, a shadow moved to Harry's left and with mounting surprise he saw Mad Eye Moody step out of the shadow next to the pantry door, where he must have been standing throughout the entire exchange with Remus' brother. Wit his distinctive limp he came over towards the table and sat down facing Harry. He grinned as he saw Harry's expression.

"Didn't mean to startle you, but I see that you could do with some additional lessons in vigilance, Potter. You have to be aware of your surroundings at all the time."

"Why were you hiding in the shadows? Didn't you want Remus' brother to see you?"

Moody laughed loudly.

"Kid, you still have a lot to learn. It would take far more than just lurking in the shadows to hide my presence from Janus Lupin. Rest assured that he has known where I was the entire time. But I can see that meeting Janus has left quite an impression on you."

Harry shrugged, though for one more time he asked himself whether Moody could look straight into his thoughts with that magical eye of his.

"To be honest, I had not known Remus even had a brother until I came into the kitchen earlier."

Moody smiled, an action that made the scar tissue on his face stretch scarily.

"Yes, I can imagine that Remus didn't mention him before. You might have guessed that those two…how shall I put it? They are as different as you can get it, considering that they're brothers."

"Why?"

Moody chuckled and shrugged.

"They're just leading different lives, kid. They don't see each other often, it was no small wonder Janus didn't want to see Remus just now."

Harry's curiosity was sparked, though he didn't like to pry into Remus' life like that, behind his back. But he wanted to know why Remus had never mentioned his brother before.

"What does he do? I mean, he kept on repeating how busy he was."  
"He's an Auror."

That surprised Harry quite a bit.

"An Auror? A Ministry Auror?"

Moody nodded. "Yeah, an Auror. Climbed up high in the department during the past couple of years, he's one of the best and most trusted men the Ministry employs. I trained him myself, eight or nine years back when he came from France."

"France?"

Again, Moody laughed. "There is much you don't know about Remus and his family, isn't there, kid? Remus is French, so is Janus. Their father moved back there a couple of years ago from all I know. They had moved to England when Remus went to Hogwarts, but Janus went to Beauxbatons and stayed in France after that." Moody shrugged. "He came to England a couple of years after finishing school. He and Remus are not what you could call close, as you might have noticed."

"Why not?"

Moody raised an eyebrow, the one above his real eye, and looked at Harry for a long moment. Then he finally shook his head.

"I don't know the reasons, kid, and even if I did I don't know if I should tell you. Ask Remus once he wakes up again. If there is one person who can tell you what happened between them, it's him."

Moody got up from his chair and walked over towards the door. Harry nodded numbly, still not really knowing what he was supposed to think about the whole revelations on Remus' family situation. He had not really spent any thoughts on the question whether his former teacher still had any living relatives, but on the other hand he and Remus were not exactly close. At least they had not been before the past weeks.

With a crooked grin, Moody took a sip from his hip-flask and walked out of the kitchen, his wooden leg thudding loudly on the tiled kitchen floor and up the stairs.

Harry watched him leave, then stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, trying to sort though his thoughts. After a minute or two, he tore himself out of his stupor and went over towards the kitchen counter. He poured another cup of tea, prepared a plate with two sandwiches and carried those up the stairs towards Remus' room. Maybe he had woken up by now, and if he had, he would surely be hungry. And – a little voice in the back of his head added – maybe he had decided by now if he still wanted to leave or not. Harry didn't know why he was so concerned about Remus' decision for his future, but he definitely didn't want his former teacher to leave the Order of the Phoenix, or Grimmauld Place. Maybe he just didn't want Remus to leave him, though that was a thought beyond Harry's understanding. He and his former teacher were not really close, he had no right to demand anything of him. Especially not staying in a place where he was obviously not doing fine.

But Remus was still sleeping as Harry opened his door, so Harry silently sneaked into the room and deposited the tea and sandwiches on the bedside table. He knew he had been silent, but just as he turned around and silently started towards the door again, Remus stirred on the bed. He turned to his back, frowned slightly and after a moment groggily rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up. His eyes fell onto Harry, and he frowned again, this time in slight confusion.

"Harry?"

"Good morning, Remus. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't, I think. I thought I smelled tea, must have been dreaming."

Harry shook his head and gestured towards the bedside table.

"No, it wasn't a dream. I brought you breakfast, I thought you might be awake again."

Remus turned his head and his eyes lightened up as he saw the tray Harry had brought standing on the bedside table. He reached for the tea almost immediately.

"Ah, thank you Harry."

"How are you feeling?"

Remus took a sip of his tea, then he shrugged. With another frown he gestured for Harry to sit down on a chair instead of standing around near the door.  
"Why don't you sit down if you like? I'm feeling better, at least far better than yesterday evening. Though I have no doubt that Madam Pomfrey will be back in the course of the day, fretting about me. She's unbearable whenever she is faced with something she can't explain, it challenges her professional pride. So I'll have to bear with her until she has found a satisfying explanation for my collapse, which unfortunately nobody has found so far."

Harry nodded.

"Yes, at least not Professor Dumbledore. And your brother said he didn't know what could be the reason for your collapse, either."

Remus choked on a bite of sandwich as Harry said that, and he coughed for a moment before he could speak again.  
"Janus is here?"

"Was, yes. When I came into the kitchen earlier, he was there."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably, not really knowing what to say next. Remus watched him for a moment, then he smiled and shook his head.

"I see that you don't really know what to make of your meeting with him, do you?"

He said it with a smile in his voice, but Harry nodded.

"Not really. I was a bit surprised, I didn't even know you had a brother, so when I came into the kitchen and Professor Dumbledore introduced us, I was a bit startled. And he is…I don't know how to say it."

"Different?", Remus supplied. Harry shook his head.

"To be honest, he gives me the creeps."

Remus laughed, loud and for a long moment, but when his eyes settled on Harry again there was no real mirth in them.

"Yes, Janus is known to provoke that reaction. Helps him immensely in his job, I should think."

"It might sound strange, but I got the feeling that he's dangerous."

Remus looked at Harry, then he slowly nodded. "It doesn't sound strange at all. Actually, I _know_ that Janus can be dangerous to those who threaten him. I don't think it would be wise to cross him or get on his bad side. But I don't think you need to worry about that, not unless you have the sudden urge to threaten him at wand-point."

"Moody told me that he is an Auror."

Remus nodded.

"That he is. Moody trained him, so he knows him quite well. What else did he tell you?"

Harry shrugged, not really wanting to breach the subject of why the two brothers didn't get along with each other now. But then he remembered something else.

"He said that you're French, that astonished me quite a bit."

Remus smiled again. "My father is French, I grew up there until I was nine or ten years old. But then we moved to England. My father moved back to France a couple of years ago, but I stayed here and Janus left France as well quite some time ago."

"So you speak French?"

Remus laughed again as if the question amused him greatly.

"Harry, it's my native language. Of course I speak it, fluently. But I grew up learning both English and French, and ever since we moved to England I hardly spoke French anymore, except from when I visited my father of course."

"Why hasn't he come to visit you yet?"

"My father?" Upon seeing Harry's nod, Remus shrugged. "I guess he doesn't know what happened. I doubt that Albus wants more people than necessary knowing where the Order headquarters are and how to get in. Actually, I'm rather surprised that he told Janus about it. But most probably Janus will tell my father what happened, so I should expect an owl by tomorrow morning at the latest. Hopefully, he thinks I'm too old for him to send me a howler for not having informed him immediately."

Remus chuckled slightly, but Harry failed to see the humour in it. He had always thought that his family situation was dire, but imagining to have a brother who was entirely uninterested in his health was beyond his imagination. Maybe it was because he had never had a family to speak of, but Harry imagined that if he had a brother who was not doing well, who collapsed for unknown reasons, then it would be hard to tear him away from his bedside. Some of his thoughts must have shown on Harry's face, because Remus watched him with a faintly amused expression and cocked his head slightly to the side.

"What is it?"

"Pardon?", Harry said, tearing himself out of his musings.

"What is going through your head, Harry? You looked rather…confused right now. Slightly disbelieving, even."

Harry shrugged. "Earlier, when I met your brother downstairs, Professor Dumbledore told him where your room was. But he only said that he was too busy to visit you, and couldn't get out of the room fast enough."

"And now you're asking yourself why he didn't want to see me", Remus concluded for him. Harry nodded, and Remus sat up straighter with a sigh. "That's a bit difficult to explain."

Harry quickly waved him off.

"You don't need to. It's not my place to pry, I was just a bit confused by his reaction. He didn't seem interested in how you were doing at all."

"I doubt that it was as extreme as you see it. Knowing Janus, he'd not have made the effort of coming here at all if he had been convinced that nothing was wrong with me. Probably Albus didn't tell him beforehand what exactly had happened. But I can imagine that it sufficiently calmed him when Albus assured him that I would survive. What else should he have done? Sat by my bedside all day? Because that is definitely not something suiting Janus, so I'm not all that surprised that he left so quickly."

Harry shook his head.

"So you say it was all right for him to know that you would not die? Without making sure himself how you were doing? What kind of brother does something like that?"

"_My_ brother", Remus said, and his undertone was slightly sharp and defending. Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I should not have said that. I didn't even know you had a brother until now, I certainly don't have the right to make any judgements. It's only that I can't really understand it."

"It's all right. But there's a long history behind my relationship with Janus which explains very well why we act as we do. Only that I don't particularly fancy going over all of this right now."

Harry quickly nodded. "I'm sorry. I have no right to pry."

Remus just waved him off. "There's nothing wrong with being curious, Harry. Only you have to accept that sometimes you don't get all the answers you want to have."

Before Harry had the chance to reply, there was a sharp knock on Remus' door and without waiting for an answer, Madam Pomfrey came into the room and set down her bag on the floor next to Remus' bed.

"Good morning, Remus."

Remus raised a hand. "You are aware, Poppy, that some people wait until they're called in before they enter a room? I've read that somewhere, it's an interesting concept called 'privacy' which I'd really like to try out sometime."

The nurse only waved vaguely into his direction and didn't even seem to notice Remus' slightly snappy remark. Her eyes fell onto the empty plate on Remus' bedside table and she nodded.  
"At least somebody took care that he starts eating again, that at least is something. Thank you, Mr. Potter. But if you'll excuse us now, I want to examine my patient again."

Both Remus' eyebrows disappeared beneath his hairline.

"Hello? I am awake, coherent and my hearing is working perfectly fine. I would appreciate it not being talked about as if I wasn't there."

His pleas fell on deaf ears, Madam Pomfrey shooed Harry out of the room and immediately returned to Remus' bedside, brandishing her wand over him in what he could only interpret as a gesture of threat.

"Don't you think you've examined me enough yesterday?"  
The nurse shook her head. "I still haven't found out what caused your collapse, and until I know that for sure I want to exclude every possibility. Which is why you will have to put up with me until I've either found an answer to my questions or until I think that you're completely restored."

Remus shook his head. "And me to think that I was a grown up man who can make his own decisions."

"Not as long as you're my patient", Madam Pomfrey replied and opened her bag. "And now stop working against me, that will only make this take longer than is necessary."

Remus sighed and leaned back on his bed, surrendering to his fate. If he cooperated now, this might indeed be over soon. And as soon as the nurse was on her way back to Hogwarts, he could leave his bed again. And once he was up, he could finally take the time to make up his mind about his near future, something he had not been able to do since his collapse. He didn't particularly like it, but right now listening to Madam Pomfrey might be the way to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.


	16. Sleepwalking

**Chapter 16 – Sleepwalking**

When Harry returned to the kitchen, he found that Ron was up by now. At least he thought the red-haired head behind the mountain of toast on his plate belonged to Ron. He had not met another Weasley family member so far who was just as intent on eating as his best mate was. To Ron's left and right, Fred and George were sitting, the dragonhide-jackets Harry had already seen on them at Platform 9¾ hanging over the chairs behind them. They looked up as Harry entered and mischievous twin-smiles appeared on their faces.

"Harry, a pleasure to meet you here", Fred said and gestured for Harry to sit down on the other side of the table.

"Yes", George continued. "A visit to Grimmauld Place simply is not complete without meeting you."

Harry frowned slightly, but sat down as the twins indicated. By now he was used to them and their sometimes very weird way of acting, yet it still served to confuse him from time to time.

"Good morning", he mumbled. "What brings you here"

Fred got up from his chair to fetch a jug of pumpkin-juice from the pantry, so George spoke for him.  
"A mother's desire to see her two most successful sons from time to time. And as she for some reason refuses to set foot into our store we have to come here to keep up our family-relations. After all, the Burrow is a rather deserted place at the moment."

"And", Fred finished"we wanted to say goodbye to Ginny."

"You're a bit late for that", Harry remarked. "She's left hours ago."

George sighed and Fred nodded wearily, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"That we know now", he said heavily. "Alas, it's a bit difficult to keep up with real life in times like these…"

"…with customers nearly trampling down our place…", George continued the dialogue between his brother and himself.

"…stocks to be refilled…"

"…orders to be placed…"

"…paperwork to be done…"

"…news from home hastily scribbled down on small sheets of parchment…"

"…which somehow fell into the wastepaper-basket…"

"…and ended up in the fireplace.", George finished. Harry had to fight against the urge to laugh.

"You want to tell me that you wrote down when Ginny would leave, and then threw the piece of parchment away"

Fred shrugged.

"It's an ugly way of putting it, but all little coincidences taken into account I'd say you are right. My dear brother", he made a gesture into the direction of George"thought she would be leaving tomorrow morning, so we came to wish her goodbye. To find that she had already left."

George nodded. "Yes, especially sad since we had promised to give her a bit of a new invention of ours before she left. Shrinking Shriekers, we call them."

"Do I really want to know", Ron asked between two slices of toast. A large grin was starting to show on Fred's face.

"You might want to so that you don't find yourself on the receiving end of one. They do look an awful lot like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, you know. Though they all taste the same, no matter the colour. We're still working on that."

"And what do they do", Harry asked, his curiosity sparked.

"Well, actually it was Ginny who gave us the idea, so we thought it might be her honour to get the first samples. You see, Harry mate, in case a boy and a girl decide to go out together, and maybe the boy has other things in mind than the girl…well, let's just say that if the boy gets any stupid ideas, the Shrinking Shriekers take care that his attention is somewhat distracted from his initial plan. Distracted by a sudden process of…well, of shrinking. The shrieking is what mostly follows upon realizing what exactly it was that has shrunk. It lasts for about two hours and is very effective against hormone-driven teenagers who don't really know what they're doing."

Ron's head snapped up and his face grew red within moments. "What does Ginny need something like that for? Which boy gave her that idea? I swear that if I ever find out…"

"Relax, little brother. Our dear sister is very much able to take care of herself. I for one wouldn't want to rise her temper, and I'm sure her classmates know that very well by now. She just thought it would be a funny idea, only too understandable given that she is surrounded by teenagers for the entire time."

George mock-shuddered. "Indeed, indeed. All those hormones, I shudder to think of it. But for the most part, we're still focussing our efforts on things that explode and things that can get you out of your lessons. That is where all the fun is, you know? And over the past six and a half years we've had so many ideas which simply need to be transferred to reality."

Ron grumbled something, his mouth full with toast again. He didn't seem entirely convinced that it was wise to let Ginny face the world with anything less than a 24-hour bodyguard, but as that was not his place to decide, he grudgingly kept silent. Harry was a bit amused about the twins' newest invention, though he didn't particularly fancy the idea of ever being on the receiving end of one of those Shrinking Shriekers. Well, he didn't think it would ever come to this anyway, given his 'success' in the girl-department so far. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"How long are you going to stay"

Fred shrugged. "I guess we're going to fill our stomachs with one of Mum's lunches, and then it's back to the store for us. We can't keep it solely in Lee's hands for an entire day, he's only been helping us out for a few weeks now, he still doesn't find his way around on his own entirely. And our new helper isn't to arrive before Monday."

"You've hired somebody"

George nodded, a proud smile on his face. "Yes, our first real employee. We'd have taken Lee, of course, now that he's finished at Hogwarts, but he's got that fixed idea of becoming an Auror in his head. So he's just been helping out until his training at the Ministry starts, and we had to hire somebody else. Her name is Nina, she's been working at Zonko's for a time, so she knows a bit about how things work already."

"She's starting on Monday", Fred repeated his earlier statement. "And if things continue to run as they do now, we might even start thinking about hiring another employee, and in the future maybe even open up another shop."

The proud grin on his face mirrored that of his twin, and Harry found himself smiling along with them. The twins had really earned that their shop was running so well, only Harry feared that the impending war might change that drastically to the worse. But for now that didn't seem to disturb the twins – though Harry was sure that they had made up their mind about it – and he decided not to let that kind of thoughts ruin the mood today.

Harry remained in the kitchen, talking to Ron and the twins, when a few moments later the door opened and Mr. Weasley came into the room, talking lowly to his wife. Mrs. Weasley, unlike her husband, had obviously seen the twins this day already, as she merely nodded at them. But Arthur smiled widely at the sight of his sons and went over to greet them. The Weasleys settled down after a few moments of greetings and the usual small-talk after not seeing each other for a time, and with a grin Harry heard Ron ask his mother in between two slices of toast what she'd make for lunch.

"Merlin Ron, do you have a tapeworm or what else is wrong with you"

Fred and George chuckled slightly, but both of them were clever enough to hide their amusement behind their hands. Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes in a heartfelt sharing of Harry's question.

"You could go without lunch after that breakfast you had, Ron", she said. Ron quickly started to defend himself.

"I was only asking", he said indignantly. Surprisingly, it was Fred and George who came to his help.

"Wee Ronnykins has grown a lot over the past year, Mum, he has to fill out that frame. And besides, George and I would also be interested in what you will make for lunch."

Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes again, but bestowed a fond smile on the twins which belied all her open doubts about their choice of career.

"I'll make meatballs for lunch, with mashed potatoes. That all right with the gentlemen"

She mock-bowed in front of her sons, and Harry found himself astonished at this display of humour. There had not been many positive thoughts he had had about Mrs. Weasley over the past weeks, mostly because of what she had said about Sirius. But at the moment she simply seemed to be content to have most of her children around, only too understandable after the estrangement between the Weasley family and Percy, of whom Harry had not heard anything over the course of the past days. A few minutes later the Weasley reunion was nearly complete as the door opened again and Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen. After a short greeting to their family they sat down at the end of the table with their father. Bill pulled a rolled-up parchment out of the inner pocket of his robe and rolled it out on the table in front of him, gesturing at it while he spoke in a low voice. Mr. Weasley nodded from time to time, listening intently on what his oldest was telling. Charlie didn't look particularly uninterested, but it was obvious from how he busied himself with his tea and toast that he had heard whatever Bill was saying already. Their talking was too low for Harry to understand, but by now he was used to being excluded from Order business. Sometimes he wondered, though, why still everybody was talking about whatever the Order was doing right in front of his eyes, but speaking lowly enough so that he couldn't hear it. It was a tad bit unnerving, Harry had to admit.

But whatever it was that Mr. Weasley was talking about to his oldest sons, it only took them a few minutes to finish it. Then Bill rolled up the parchment, put it into the inside pocket of his robe and shrugged slightly.

"I'll have a look at it", Mr. Weasley said, and with that the topic seemed to be closed. Harry was glad, because then at least he could stop pretending to be entirely uninterested in what they were talking about, when he was actually rather curious to know what was going on. Here at Grimmauld Place, the Order work and the impending war of course were a lot closer to Harry than with his aunt and uncle, but still there had been absolutely no news of any kind. Ever since he and Remus had been talking on the night of his birthday, Harry had not heard anything about Death Eaters, Voldemort or any kind of unusual activity anywhere in England. He had read the _Daily Prophet_ as often as he could lay hands on it, mostly a copy was lying on the kitchen table every day, but there had been nothing in there as well. Only stories about the first war, things which Harry thought merely served to spread a feeling of insecurity in the people who read those reports. Though Remus had been right in one thing, Harry had found no more stories that wanted to make him look like a complete nutcase who should be locked up in a padded room in St. Mungo's instead of attending Hogwarts. On the contrary, the paper seemingly could not get enough of writing about his defeat of Voldemort – as if there had been anything he had _done_ – and his courage during that night a year ago, when he had stood to face the dark wizard once more. The night Cedric Diggory had died. Remus had said it was because now that the impending war had been admitted, people expected him to save the wizarding world. Everybody seemed to think this was his destiny, yet it was one Harry still struggled to accept. He only wanted to have a normal life, was that so hard to understand? It shouldn't be too hard to grasp, but Harry guessed that most of the wizarding world was not particularly interested in what prize he had to pay, if only he managed to defeat Voldemort. How they came to believe he could, Harry didn't know.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

That night, Harry couldn't fall asleep for a long time. He didn't know why, he just tossed and turned from one side to the other while in the bed next to him Ron lay stretched out on his back, arms dangling off the edge and snoring so loudly that Harry was surprised that his friend didn't wake himself up with the noise he was making. But that was not the reason why Harry could not fall asleep. He was used to Ron's snoring by now, otherwise he'd hardly get any sleep for most of the year. Harry was tired, but sleep simply would not come. He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, but could not quite place it. Yet Harry knew that this was what kept him from falling asleep, so he stared at the ceiling for endless minutes, then he turned around and watched the picture of Sirius on his nightstand. It had quickly become a habit for him to simply watch the picture for some minutes whenever he could not fall asleep, but tonight not even that seemed to work. Sirius waved at him a few times, but then he stifled a yawn and with baby-Harry cradled tightly against his chest sank down in an armchair and went to sleep. So much for that way to distract himself from his difficulties with falling asleep. Harry sighed and turned onto his back again, staring sightlessly at the ceiling in the darkened bedroom. It took more than an hour of endless tossing and turning until Harry finally fell asleep to the sound of Ron's snoring next to him.

At first he thought that he was dreaming again about the night in the Death Chamber. Those dreams always started with that leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach, even before he actually started dreaming something. But it was not the Death Chamber he was seeing, that much became obvious rather quickly. It was a strange dream, because Harry was sure that he had never been in that particular street before. It was dark and only a dim light illuminated the scene from the streetlamps as Harry was walking down it towards the house at the end of the street. Actually, he was aware that it was not _him_ doing the walking, he had the peculiar sensation of witnessing what somebody else was doing at this moment. And he knew that this someone was not alone. It was a strange feeling, one he had had before, last year when he had witnessed the attack on Mr. Weasley. He didn't connect particularly pleasant memories with that feeling, but could not help the rising curiosity as to what this all meant. He was approaching that house at the end of the street, that much was sure, but that didn't explain anything. There was nothing extraordinary about the house, it could be in any English suburb Harry had ever seen. It didn't even have any features which identified it as the home of wizards, yet somehow Harry knew that this was the case.

It was too dark for Harry to see precisely, but a dark shadow stepped in front of him and suddenly the door was open. They stepped through and, as if knowing where to go, Harry moved up the stairs to the first floor. The door to the second room on the right stood slightly ajar, and suddenly Harry felt a wand in his hand, saw him rise it in front of himself as he entered the room behind two of the shadowy figures that had come with him. A man was sitting on a desk with his back turned to them, and a woman was sitting in an armchair with a book in her lap. The woman looked up and shrieked upon seeing them, and the man spun around, his hand reaching for his wand which lay on the table beside him.

"_Expelliarmus_", a voice next to Harry cried and before the man even had the chance to get to his wand, it flew across the room and vanished in the fold of the dark cloak of the man beside Harry. Then he turned around and the wand in his hand levelled on the woman. It was not his own wand, that much Harry realized despite the strangeness of the situation. Of course it couldn't be his own wand, because it was not really him doing it, because he was lying in his bed at Grimmauld Place and his own wand lay on the bedside table, but somehow it felt so real. It felt as if it should be his own wand that was levelled at the woman. But it was not his wand, and it also wasn't his voice that firmly said "_Crucio_" upon which the woman fell to the floor and screamed in pain, writhing as if that could somehow ease what she was going through. And as much as he wanted it, there was nothing Harry could do to turn the wand away from the woman. He had no influence on what his hand – or maybe not _his_ hand – was doing.

It wasn't really him doing it, yet in a distance he heard somebody calling his name. Maybe it was one of the faceless shadows who had come with him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman on the floor, and her screams drowned out nearly everything else. Nearly everything. Yet there it was again, the sound of somebody calling out his name, more and more urgent. Harry, that was him. But if he was Harry, why was he doing this to that woman who had never done him any harm? Why was he torturing her like that, and why didn't he make the screaming stop? His head was starting to ache from the screaming and from all those confusing thoughts, yet the wand in his hand didn't move to point away from the woman.

"Harry! Harry, wake up"

Wake up? He was awake, wasn't he? But maybe he wasn't, at least he had the feeling that he wasn't entirely awake. And there was definitely somebody shaking him.

"Harry, come on. Wake up."

With a sudden intake of breath, Harry opened his eyes and sat up in his bed. His heart was beating fast in his chest, his breathing was hitched and his head felt as if it was about to explode. The scar on his forehead was on fire, sending white-hot flames of pain through his head with every beat of his heart, and Harry immediately clamped his hands tightly against his aching forehead. Only gradually he became aware of his surroundings, the bedroom he shared with Ron at Grimmauld Place. The door to the corridor stood ajar and dim light filtered in from the corridor. Harry could make out Ron's pale face peering down at him, and on his other side Remus was sitting next to him on the mattress, one hand still on his shoulder and a worried expression on his face. Now he slowly realized that it must have been Remus who had called out to him repeatedly.

"Harry, are you all right"

Harry didn't know if he should say yes or no, at the moment he felt both relieved that this dream was over and at the same time afraid to be awake again. Afraid because he would need to face the truth of what this dream had meant. Because he was not really sure that it had been merely a dream. No, in fact he was sure that it had been real, and the searing pain in his forehead was more then enough proof for him.

"Harry", Remus probed again, his voice growing more concerned. "It's all right, it's just been a dream."

Still panting heavily, Harry finally turned his head and focussed his eyes on Remus.

"What happened"

"I was going to ask you the same question, actually. I woke up because you were screaming so loudly, and by the time I got out of my room, Ron was already in the corridor to fetch somebody because he couldn't wake you up. Are you all right"

For the first time Harry noticed that indeed Remus was wearing his pyjamas and looked every bit as if he had been thrown out of bed only moments ago, wand held tightly in his left hand. Ron didn't look much better than Remus did, he, too, had a scared look in his eyes and his hair was still tousled from sleep.

"I don't really know. I think I'm all right. My head hurts, though."

A small frown crossed Remus' face. "Your scar"

"Yes."

Remus nodded. "All right. How about you get out of those sweat-drenched pyjamas, and then we get you down into the kitchen, get something warm to drink into you and then you tell me what's wrong."

He got up from the mattress, picked up a shirt and a pair of trousers from the chair next to Harry's bed and handed them to him. Then he left the room gesturing for Ron to follow. Harry sat on the edge of his bed for another moment, trying to get his bearings again, then he got up and took off his damp pyjamas. He quickly shrugged into the clothes Remus had handed him and then went after them. In the meantime, Remus had put on a dressing gown over his pyjamas and had his arms crossed loosely over his chest as if to keep a chill away. They didn't talk as they descended into the kitchen, and after Remus lit a fire in the fireplace he first set some water for tea to boil, seemingly to give Harry some time to collect his bearings again after the nightmare and his abrupt waking up. Only when the water was boiling and he had filled a tea-pot, Remus sat down on a chair across from Harry and looked at him.

"That sounded bad. What happened"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, not really knowing what to say. He felt a bit silly sitting here talking about his nightmares, but he had the feeling that it was important to tell somebody about it.

"I don't know _what_ happened. I had another dream, like the one I had last year about Mr. Weasley."

Ron's eyes grew wide, but after a moment he realized with relief that this time it could not have been his father to whom something had happened. His parents were here at Grimmauld Place, they weren't in danger. Remus only nodded at Harry's words, but his expression became somewhat darker.

"What do you remember"

"Not much. There was this road which I walked down, towards this house. I didn't really see much, there was nothing that looked out of the ordinary. But there were others with me, I remember that. And then we went into the house, into a room upstairs. There…", Harry's voice got rough and he quickly took a sip of tea before he continued. "There were a man and a woman, and before the man could even do anything, he was disarmed and I…I turned towards the woman and…I cursed her", Harry said in a low voice. "I know that it wasn't really me, but it felt as if I cursed her. With Cruciatus. She screamed, and was in so much pain, but it only stopped when you woke me up."

All the colour had drained out of Harry's face and Remus gently squeezed his shoulder. He too had become rather pale during the past minutes, and now he got up from his chair and walked over towards the fireplace.

"We need to tell Albus about it. If it has really happened, he needs to know. Was there anything you recognized? Something in the house, or did you know who the two people were"

Harry shook his head and drained another gulp of tea. "No, I didn't. Sorry."

"It's all right, Harry."

Remus knelt in front of the fireplace and called up Hogwarts, but it took a few minutes until Albus Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace. Harry guessed that even Albus Dumbledore slept at times, because his whole appearance seemed rather tousled just now.

"Remus, what is wrong"

"Albus, sorry to wake you, but I think this is important. Could you come over to headquarters"

"Has something happened"

"Maybe, I don't know. But Harry had a very disturbing dream, and I think you ought to listen to it."

Dumbledore thought for a moment, then he nodded. "I'll be over as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Albus."

Remus sat down on the chair again and gave Harry an encouraging smile.

"I'm sure Albus will be able to make sense of it, Harry."

"But maybe it was only a stupid nightmare. I don't want anybody to fuss about it, if it can as well only have been my imagination."

Remus shrugged. "Maybe it was just your imagination, maybe not. But we'd better find out what's behind it instead of facing ugly surprises if we don't care enough about it now. Albus will sort it out, rest assured of that. How is your head"

Harry shrugged.

"Not so good. My scar still hurts."

Remus nodded and got up from his chair.

"Just a moment, I'll fetch you a potion."

He vanished out of the kitchen, and Harry turned towards Ron with a slightly pained smile on his face. His best friend was still looking rather pale, and he held his teacup in a death-grip.

"I'm sorry for waking you like that."

Ron shrugged, but his expression didn't waver. "It was scary. You were screaming and screaming, and nothing I could do would wake you up. All the while you were clutching your forehead, and I was worried that something serious had happened. Something with You-Know-Who."

"Maybe it was, I simply don't know. But my scar hasn't hurt like that in months, and mostly it only does that because of Voldemort. I want to know what Professor Dumbledore makes of all that."

Ron nodded thoughtfully, and at that moment the kitchen door opened and Remus came in again, a small bottle in his hand.

"I don't really know if it helps against the pain in your scar as much as it helps against normal headaches, but at least it won't do any harm."

He put the bottle in front of Harry and sat down in his previously vacated chair again. Harry reached for the bottle and uncorked it, pulling a face as he got a whiff of the potion's smell. Remus smiled.

"They never smell pleasant. But you should take a sniff on my Wolfsbane potion if you want to know just how disgusting it can get."

"Truth be told, I don't think it can get much worse than that."

His face still a mask of disgust, Harry lifted the bottle and emptied the contents at once, quickly washing down the taste with another big gulp of tea.

"Give it a few minutes, then the pain should at least lessen, if not vanish completely."

It did, much to Harry's relief. The pain did not go away entirely, but just as Remus had promised the sharp sting from his scar was numbed enough for him to ignore it. And maybe the pain would vanish before the effect of the potion stopped. The pain in his scar had always been unpredictable, coming and going quickly and seemingly at random.

It took a few more minutes until Dumbledore finally arrived, minutes during which Harry asked himself over and over again whether it would not have been better just to keep his mouth shut. Well, he could have hardly stopped himself from crying out in his sleep, but he didn't like the idea that he set something into motion which possibly turned out to be merely the dream of a disturbed teenager. But there was nothing he could do about it now, Dumbledore was on his way and he'd tell him just what he had told Remus. Nevertheless, he felt nervous when his old headmaster finally stepped through the door of the basement kitchen.

"Remus, good evening. Or rather, good morning. To you, too, Harry, Ron. What has happened to make you ask me to come here at this hour"

"I'm sorry Albus, but I think it's important. Harry had a dream."

It sounded ridiculous the way Remus put it, but Dumbledore seemingly took it serious. He sat down at the table next to Harry and looked at him.

"Tell me about it."

And so Harry did. He told Dumbledore the dream just like he had told it to Remus earlier. He tried to remember every detail, told Dumbledore everything he could think of, and when it was finally over he felt tired and thought he could fall asleep within seconds if only he was in his bed. Dumbledore watched Harry calmly for a few moments, sipping from the cup of tea Remus had handed him.

"And you are sure that you didn't recognize anything? Nothing at all that seemed familiar to you"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. But it wasn't just a dream, I know that. It felt just like it did last year, when I saw the snake attack Mr. Weasley. I've never felt anything like this ever since, until this night."

Dumbledore nodded and thought again for a moment.

"Remus, has Alastor been here last evening"

Remus shook his head. "No, I haven't seen him since the day before yesterday."

"Then we need to find him. I want him to have a look at what Harry said, maybe he has heard something about it. We need to find out if it happened, and where it happened."

Remus nodded and knelt down in front of the fireplace again. While he talked, Dumbledore turned towards Harry again.

"We will find out what happened, be sure of that."

Harry nodded, feeling numb. "I know. But if possible, I don't want to have such dreams again."

"I can imagine that, Harry. Let us hope that it won't become a regular occurrence. But maybe we should think about teaching you Occlumency again."

Harry had not thought that anything could manage to worsen his mood today, but merely thinking about learning Occlumency proved this thought to be wrong. Because there was only one person Dumbledore could be talking about concerning those Occlumency lessons, and that person was Snape. Harry didn't want to have just one more lesson with Snape, be it Potions or Occlumency, last year's experience had been enough of that for him. And besides Harry was sure that Snape would not teach him again. Not after he had stuck his head into his professor's Pensieve last year. Comparing dreams like the one of this night with the feeling he had when Snape was trying to enter his mind, Harry really didn't know which of the two he would chose. If he had a choice, come to think of it. Mostly, people didn't give him one but simply told him to do something.

He was pulled out of those musings when Remus sat down on the chair opposite of him again.

"Moody was home, he's coming over as quickly as he thinks it's safe." Remus pulled a face. "Is it just me, or did he strengthen the wards around his house and fireplace even more during the past weeks? I already thought I'd never get a connection."

Dumbledore shrugged. "Alastor is constantly improving the wards around his house, though I should probably tell him that he needs to make sure that he can still be reached, and quickly in case of an emergency."

At that moment, the door to the basement kitchen was opened – or rather, ripped open – with force and Mundungus Fletcher literally stormed into the kitchen. His foot caught on the hem of his robes, and he slid a few feet into the room before he could stop and disentangle himself. Panting heavily, Dung straightened up and looked at the people around the table. The relief on his face was obvious as his eyes fell on Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore, there you are. Thanks Merlin you are here."

"Mundungus, what happened"

Dumbledore had gotten up from his chair upon Dung's rather abrupt arrival, and so had Remus, who by now was trying to guide the man over to the table. He offered Dung a cup of tea, but the other only grumbled something and with astonishment Harry noticed that Remus took the cup back to the counter and poured a generous shot of amber liquid from a bottle in the cupboard into it. This time, Dung accepted the cup he was handed.

"What happened", Dumbledore repeated.

"There has been an attack this night. On the Bransons."

Harry felt something in his stomach clench together. He had witnessed an attack this night, and he was afraid that it was just the attack Dung was talking about he had seen. After all, just how many attacks could there be during one night? Nervously, he clenched and unclenched his hands under the table.

"Merde", Remus silently cursed under his breath. Harry wasn't sure that anybody except from him had noticed, and surely the curse had slipped out entirely unconsciously.

"How do you know", Dumbledore asked Dung.

"I was in the Hog's Head. I had a…business meeting there with an old friend of mine", Dung said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Harry was sure nobody in the room wanted to know just what kind of 'business' Dung had conducted in the Hogsmeade pub. "We drank a few beers there, and about half an hour ago people started coming into the pub, talking about something happening at the Bransons' place in Sheffield. I know that pub-talk is normally over-exaggerated, but then somebody said that they had been killed and there was a Dark Mark in the sky. So I went to check with Dodge, knowing that he normally knows which talk is true and which isn't, but he had not heard a thing. I couldn't reach Moody, but after endless minutes of trying I got Kingsley in a safe fireplace. He didn't have much time, but he confirmed that the Bransons had been killed and that as far as the DMLE knows there has been a Dark Mark in the sky. Naturally, the Department was in utter uproar at that time, so he told me he'd get back to headquarters as soon as he could."

Dumbledore nodded, outwardly looking composed, though Harry guessed that he was not half as calm as he appeared.

"Alastor is on his way here, if he doesn't know about what happened already."

Harry listened silently to the adults, feeling completely numb. There were people dead, he didn't know just how many people the Branson family consisted of, but people had died last night, and he was fairly sure that he had seen them die. That he had been present during their last moments, a thought that completely freaked him out.

"Who were the Bransons", he finally dared to ask. He already half-feared that his question would be dismissed with another explanation of how he didn't need to worry himself with those details, but Dumbledore only looked at him calmly and picked up his teacup.

"Sal Branson worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was an Auror, though not on active duty. He coordinated the Department and naturally knew most of what was going on there. He was no Order member, but Kingsley knew him quite well and at times he was of help when we needed information. His wife Celia wasn't working for the Ministry, though."

"She ran a small restaurant in Sheffield", Dung supplied. "No children."

Harry swallowed visibly. He had not seen the man in his dream all that clearly, but the woman was etched into his mind with a brutal clarity.

"She…Celia Branson, I mean. Did you know her"

Dung nodded. "I did. Not well, mind you, but I've been in the place she ran a few times."

"She wouldn't have been about five feet tall, with brown, curly hair and a rather large mole on her left cheek", Harry asked in a low voice.

Dung nodded. "Yes, she was. A bit stocky built, large brown eyes. But the mole on her cheek stands out, that's true. How come you know her"

But Harry didn't even hear the question. His head was spinning with the impact of what he had just heard. It had been Celia Branson he had seen in his dream, it had been just that woman he had tortured…no, the woman he had seen being tortured. And now she was dead, probably killed only a few moments after Harry had woken up. Or rather, _hopefully_ only a few moments after he had woken up. He bit his lip and closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning when suddenly a hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Harry, are you all right", Remus' voice came from beside him. Harry shook his head.

"It was her", was all he brought out, and Remus squeezed his shoulder again. Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. Remus was crouching next to his chair, and Ron, Dumbledore and Dung were watching him with different degrees of worry and confusion on their faces.

"All right", Dumbledore finally said to break the silence. "Harry and Ron, you'd best get settled back to bed. It might sound hard, but there is nothing more you can do tonight. We need to find out what exactly has happened and what it means, and at the moment there is nothing you can do by staying awake. By tomorrow morning we'll see what we're up against."

Ron nodded at the suggestion, but Harry was not overly excited about the prospect of going back to bed. He didn't think he could sleep tonight, and lying in bed would only make him brood over and over again about what he had seen. And he didn't want to see the face of Celia Branson again, contorted in pain as she writhed on the floor. The thought alone sent unpleasant shivers down his spine. Remus noticed his discomfort, but with a last squeeze of Harry's shoulder he released him and got up from his crouch.

"I really think it's best if you go upstairs now. Albus and Dung will surely leave sooner or later, and before the pandemonium here starts you ought to at least try to get some sleep."

Harry shrugged resignedly and got up from his chair.

"All right."

"I'm sure that there is still some sleeping potion left in the bathroom cabinet", Dumbledore threw in. "A slight dose should let you sleep for a couple of hours."

Normally, Harry didn't like the idea of taking sleeping potions. Aside from his failed experiment with brewing one himself a few weeks ago, he also knew that those potions didn't have any effect on the problems that didn't let him sleep. That was, no effect aside from pushing those problems away, they definitely didn't help any to deal with what was bothering him. But the prospect of watching Celia Branson's face as she was tortured for the remaining hours of the night was enough to make him nod immediately.

"I think that would be good, yes. Thank you."

"I'll go with you and get you one", Remus said. Again, Harry only nodded numbly and followed Ron and his former teacher out of the room. In the end he couldn't recall how he got up the stairs and into his room. The next thing he remembered clearly was that he was sitting on his bed, swallowing three spoonful of the potion Remus handed him. The good thing was that the potion took a good effect. Not five minutes later he lay curled up on his bed and his eyes dropped close. It wasn't a Dreamless Sleep potion Remus had given him, but Harry hoped that he was exhausted enough not to have any more dreams that night.


	17. An Early Return

**Chapter 17 – An Early Return**

The next morning, Harry felt peacefully tired and rather comfortable in his bed. That feeling lasted about two minutes, until he finally woke up enough to remember the events of the previous night. From that moment on, further sleep was entirely out of question for him, so he quickly got out of bed and padded into the bathroom. If he didn't think about what he had seen, then he'd not have to face it as being real. He knew exactly that this would work for a few hours at best, but maybe something else would distract him until then. So he took a long, hot shower, brushed his teeth and even made a hopeless attempt at combing his hair before he went back into his bedroom and dressed. Ron was still lying on the bed, deeply asleep. Mrs. Weasley would surely wake him soon enough, and Harry was a bit curious as to what had happened here at headquarters throughout the night, so he decided to let Ron sleep and went down on his own. Everybody always met in the kitchen, so Harry hoped that he'd get some news there.

He was a bit disappointed to find the kitchen rather empty. He had expected some sort of meeting to be going on there, or people coming and going on their various missions, stopping by only to grab a bite to eat while they reported what they had found out, but everything seemed scarily normal. Mrs. Weasley was standing behind the stove, stirring in a pot of porridge. There was no trace of Dumbledore, Dung or anybody who worked in the Ministry. Only Bill and Remus were sitting at the kitchen table, empty breakfast plates in front of them. Remus was engrossed in the morning paper, but he seemingly had surrendered the sports section to Bill. There was absolutely nothing hinting at the fact that only last night they had talked about two murders here in that room, or that anybody here was concerned with the aftermath of those murders, and that thought unsettled Harry extremely. He quickly closed the door behind himself and went over towards the table.

"Morning."

Mrs. Weasley turned around and smiled at Harry.

"Good morning, Harry dear. What do you want for breakfast? Shall I make you some toast, or maybe eggs"

"No thank you, Mrs. Weasley. Porridge is fine."

Mrs. Weasley filled a plate and handed it to Harry. As he sat down at the kitchen table with his porridge and tea, Remus and Bill both nodded him good morning. But he didn't want to waste any time with pleasantries and the pretence that nothing had happened last night.

"Are there any news"

Remus folded his paper and put it away. Bill, too, tore his attention away from the Cannon's latest defeat and listened to the conversation that was about to start. Remus smiled sadly and shook his head.  
"Nothing that I know of."

Harry frowned. "Why not? What happened"

Remus shrugged. "As I said, nothing. We only know what we did last night, namely that the Bransons were killed. Albus and Dung both left shortly after you went to bed, and so far there has not been word from any of them. Tonks dropped by early this morning, but she didn't know anything aside from the fact that Janus and his partner at the DMLE are in charge of the investigation and that Moody is there, trying to find out what happened. She assumed that Kingsley is there as well, and Albus went to talk to the Minister first thing this morning. That is all I can tell you for now."

Harry nodded and swallowed down his porridge. "But why"

"Why what? Why the attack? Why on the Bransons? Why now"

Harry nodded. "All of that, I think."

Remus sighed.

"I don't know. So far, we can only guess. Mind you, there has been no confirmation whatsoever that it has been a Death Eater attack. Though your dream strongly suggests that it has something to do with Voldemort." He paused and shook a head at the hissing intake of air that Mrs. Weasley took. "It might take some more time until we know what to think about last night's events. And we'll have to see if it was a singular attack, or the start of something bigger."

That was a frightening thought Harry had not allowed himself to think as of yet. What if that was the beginning of the war they all had feared, dreaded and yet anticipated? What would come next, what would happen to the Order, what would the Ministry do, and how would that affect life at Hogwarts?

From the corner of his eyes, Harry noticed how Mrs. Weasley extinguished the fire under the pot with the porridge and left the kitchen, Bill following suit. It wasn't unusual or strange, but as Harry looked up and into Remus' face he found that maybe it had been prearranged to leave him alone in the kitchen with his former teacher. Because Remus was looking serious.

"Harry, we need to talk."

"Has something else happened"

Remus quickly shook his head. "No, nothing else has happened. But before he left last night, Albus and I had a little talk. He said – and I have to agree with him – that if this is the start of a bigger chain of events, then you are no longer safe at Grimmauld Place."

A leaden feeling of dread settled in Harry's stomach.

"What is that supposed to mean"

"Harry, I want you to go upstairs and pack your things together."

It took a moment until the meaning of those words sunk in, but then Harry could not react fast enough.

"What" he said, drawing himself up to full height.

"Please pack your things together."

"No, I won't. Why should I"

Remus raised an eyebrow and turned slightly so that he was fully facing Harry. He seemed to be aware of the teenager's sense of resistance, but instead of saying anything he calmly crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at Harry.

"I will explain, but we don't have much time. Please pack your things first."

Harry shook his head. "No. I won't leave Grimmauld Place now, just because Professor Dumbledore says I have to."

"Professor Dumbledore agreed to let you stay here under certain conditions when I took you from hospital, and now it's no longer safe for you here."

"I'm fed up with other people deciding about my life! Why does nobody ever ask what I want? I don't particularly like being tossed around like a punching-ball, and I certainly won't go back to my aunt and uncle just because you and Professor Dumbledore have come to the conclusion that I'm in the way all of a sudden! You can't make me go if I don't want to, and I won't go. Period"

Faced with the full intensity of Harry's teenage-wrath, Remus was rendered silent for a moment. He slowly shook his head, then gestured towards Harry's vacated chair.

"Sit down Harry."

Harry glared defiantly and shook his head, so Remus merely sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"All right, remain standing if you like. I think we need to clear a few things up. I know that you are fed up with other people deciding for you, I can sympathize with that, but at the moment it cannot be changed. So please listen to me for a moment. When I took you out of the hospital and brought you here, Professor Dumbledore wanted to send you back to your relatives after talking to you about what had happened. Not because anybody overly likes pushing you around, but because that is where you are safest. Physically safest. You might not like the idea, I can tell you that neither do I, but it's a fact. And though Grimmauld Place is relatively safe, it's not nearly safe enough for you to be here compared to Little Whinging. But I argued against the idea of sending you back to your relatives, and in the end Professor Dumbledore gave in and agreed to let you stay here. Under certain conditions. One condition was that you'd not be left alone here under no circumstances, meaning that there had always to be someone around to look after you, and to be there in case something unforeseen happened. And the second condition was that if something happened that required the attention of the Order members entirely, so that your wellbeing as well as your safety could no longer be guaranteed, you'd have to leave Grimmauld Place. To Hogwarts. That is what Dumbledore reminded me of last night, and I have to agree with what he said. Everybody here already has more work at their hands than they can deal with, if last night was the start of the war and it progresses from there on, nobody can guarantee for how long Grimmauld Place will be safe. That is different with Hogwarts, Voldemort won't be able to breach its defences anywhere in the near future. The other reason why you have to leave is that nobody here can teach you anything about Occlumency. You were having another of those dreams, and that makes it paramount to teach you how to guard your mind."

"Because I know about headquarters, and who some of the Order members are."

Remus nodded slightly. "Also because of that, yes. But mainly so that you are safe from Voldemort for as long as you can be. And so that something like Sirius' death won't happen again."

Remus had said the last part very lowly, and there was no trace of accusation in his voice. Harry understood that his former teacher didn't want to place any blame on him for his godfather's death with his words, yet he had to struggle hard to suppress the tears at again being reminded of Sirius' death. If he had acted differently back then, then it would not have happened, nothing anybody said could convince Harry otherwise.

Harry bit his lip and nodded. "I'm sorry."

Remus rubbed the back of his right hand absent-mindly and tried to smile at Harry.

"It's all right, nothing to be sorry for. I should have told you earlier that nobody wanted to send you back to your relatives. But at the moment staying here simply is no alternative for you, and I think you'd rather be at Hogwarts than with your aunt and uncle. I promised Albus to keep you safe, and that's what I'll do. I haven't spoken to Arthur or Molly yet, but I'm sure that Ron will come with us to Hogwarts, or at least that he'll come after us."

Harry frowned at those words. "Us? You're coming with me to Hogwarts"  
Remus nodded. "Sure. I promised Albus that I'd personally take care that you are safe, and so I will. Besides, you might be glad to have some company. Hogwarts is rather empty during the summer, aside from Severus there's only Professor Trelawney there for the entire holiday."

Harry pulled a face. "I don't know what's worse, holiday with my aunt and uncle or with those two."

A fleeting smile stole across Remus' face. "It'll definitely be a change, though as you might know, Sybil hardly ever leaves her tower."

"Yes", Harry said, pushing his chair back a little. "It disturbs her vibrations, as far as I know, though I can't say I'm overly sad about it. No more Divination for me if possible."

"We'll have a look at your schedule possibilities once your O.W.L. results are out. Shall we go upstairs and you pack your things"

Harry nodded and got up from his chair. They climbed the stairs in silence, and while Remus went into his room to get his things, Harry walked down the corridor and opened the door to his own room. Ron seemingly had finally gotten up, his bed was still rumpled but empty. Mrs. Weasley must have woken him, there was a stack of freshly laundered clothes on Harry's bed that suggested that Ron's mother had been in here since he had gotten up. Packing his things into his trunk was a rather quick affair, aside from the clothes there were only his parchments and books which lay on the small table beside the window. After packing those, he carefully wrapped the framed picture of Sirius and himself into a clean shirt and put it on top of all his other things. Just as he closed the lid of his trunk, Ron came into the room.

"You're packing your things? Why"

"Remus is taking me to Hogwarts. He and Professor Dumbledore don't think I'll still be safe here if last night was not the only thing that'll happen."

"I'm coming with you", was Ron's immediate response. Harry shrugged.

"Remus said he had not talked to your parents yet. I don't know why, but he's in quite a hurry to leave. Just talk to your parents, I'm sure they'll let you come after us."

Ron didn't look as if he liked that idea, but before he could say anything else Remus knocked on the door and entered the room.

"Ready to leave, or is there anything else you need to take with you"

Harry dragged his trunk off the bed and shook his head.

"No, I've finished packing. But why do we have to leave so quickly"

Remus shrugged. "Probably it's just unnecessary precaution, but one can never be sure enough. If this was no single attack but the start of the war, then it'll be pandemonium here by this evening. It already is, at least halfway, though it doesn't look like it yet. And both Albus and I will only let that happen with a good conscience if we know that you are safe."

"Also because then you won't have to worry about me in the back of your mind."

Like Remus earlier, there was no accusation in Harry's voice, it was merely a statement and Remus nodded.

"That's true, yes. Some things we simply have to make sure of so that we don't have to worry about them anymore and can focus on the task at hand."

"Okay, but why does it have to be Professor Snape? Can't you teach me Occlumency"

Remus laughed. "No, I'm afraid not. Occlumency as a skill has never been my forte. It is difficult to master with a somewhat split mind like mine, you know"

Harry smiled awkwardly. "I thought it was worth a try."

"It definitely was, but I can't help you. Of all the people I know, only Albus and Severus are both skilled and trained enough to help you master it, so you'll have to accept that it has to be Severus."

"Does he know about that? Because I think he doesn't want to teach me anymore after I stuck my head in his pensieve last year."

"Well, it was a foolish thing to do, but I think Albus will have a word with him about it. I can't tell you what to do, but it might be wise to apologize for what you did in case you haven't done so. It might not change anything about Severus' behaviour, but it shows your good will in any case. It is important that you learn it, surely he'll see the need as well as we do. And now we should go, I'll just get my things."

He and Harry said goodbye to Ron, then Remus levitated Harry's trunk out of the room and down the corridor, where he picked up his own suitcase and started descending the stairs. He deposited the trunk and his own suitcase in front of the fireplace and took down the pot with floo-powder.

"We're flooing to Professor Dumbledore's office. The password is Nimble-Wimble. You take Hedwig's cage, I'll follow with the rest."

Harry nodded and grabbed a handful of floo-powder, Hedwig's empty owl-cage in his left hand. He threw the powder into the flames, shouted out the password, and was on his way to Hogwarts past spinning fireplaces.

He arrived at Hogwarts in a could of dust and ashes in Dumbledore's office. Of course fireplaces were meant to be filled with ashes and soot, but still Harry asked himself why on earth wizards chose to travel that way if one always looked like a chimney sweeper afterwards. But then again most wizards could easily get rid of that problem with one quick wave of their wand. Harry was immensely grateful when Remus did just that and quickly cleaned the remnants of their travel from him. Dumbledore was already there, greeting them.

"Ah, there you are. Welcome Harry."

"Hello sir."

"You've got everything? Good. I haven't had the chance to talk to Molly and Arthur yet, but I'm sure they'll agree to send Ron over sooner or later. Now, it would be easiest if you simply settled in your dormitory already."

"Okay." Harry nodded and picked up Hedwig's cage again.

"Now Remus, you can either settle in one of the guest-suites, or maybe if you want to reminisce a bit in your youth, you might want to keep Harry company. Gryffindor tower has quite a number of empty dormitories at the moment."

A smile settled on Remus' face. "It might be a nice change, that's true."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled behind his half-moon glasses. "I thought as much. The password for the holidays is Gillyweed. I'll see you at dinner, then."

Remus pointed his wand at Harry's trunk and levitated it over towards the door, his own suitcase in his hand, Harry following suit. They walked down corridors and staircases until they reached the portrait o the Fat Lady which covered the entrance to Gryffindor tower. The Fat Lady was currently busy doing her hair, but upon seeing Harry and Remus she let go off the brush and smiled at them.

"Ah, visitors in the summer holidays, how unusual. Mr. Potter, that is a surprise…and Mr. Lupin! It's such a pleasure to see you again. It has been far too long."

Remus smiled and bowed slightly. "Milady, the pleasure is all mine."

The fat lady blushed vividly and fanned herself. "It's…really a pleasure to have you here, I can only repeat that. Do you have the password, my dears"

"Gillyweed", Harry said to cover up his giggles over the Fat Lady's behaviour. The portrait swung aside and Harry and Remus entered the common room. Harry flung himself into one of the armchairs, and as soon as the portrait swung shut he started to laugh.

"What in Merlin's name was that"

Remus put down the trunk, smiling broadly, and sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"Your father, Sirius and I have found over the years that the Fat Lady is a good friend and ally to have. Just imagine that you need to get back to your dormitory unseen, Filch's cat or Filch himself is chasing you and you have to struggle with remaining hid under an Invisibility cloak. It is a tad bit difficult to get past the portrait if she doesn't know whom the disembodied voice belongs to. But she always knew when we went marauding, and more than once she saved our neck by letting us slip past without much noise or lengthy explanations. Truth be told, she was a bit smitten with your father."

Harry's eyes widened. "With my Dad? But…I mean, she's a bloody portrait"

Remus laughed. "Yes, a portrait your father practiced his charms on regularly, and I don't mean the ones Professor Flitwick teaches you. James could be a very charming guy, and the Fat Lady seemingly had a soft spot for him. Helped us immensely at times."

He fell silent and let his eyes wander around the room for some long moments, eyes distant and clearly not in the present with his thoughts. Harry didn't dare to disturb whatever Remus was thinking about, so he silently waited until Remus shook his head and got up from the sofa.

"It's strange to be back in here. It's been years since I last saw those rooms, but hardly anything has changed. It looks just like it has back then, just as if your Dad or Sirius might come pounding down the stairs any minute now."

He shook his head again to ward off those thoughts and reached for Harry's trunk again.

"Better get that upstairs, how about that"

Harry nodded and followed with the owl-cage.

"You haven't been here since you were a student yourself"

Remus shook his head as he climbed the spiral staircase.

"No, I haven't. Only in front of the Common room, the night Sirius tried to break in here while I was teaching here. But I've not been in here since my last day as a seventh year student. Now, which of the dormitories is yours"

Harry pointed him towards the door of the dormitory he had shared with his classmates for the past five years. Remus followed him inside and put the trunk down on the foot-end of the bed Harry indicated.

"That was the dormitory of the year below ours", Remus said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"Which one was yours"

As an answer, Remus went back into the corridor and turned left into the dormitory which would belong to the seventh-years next term. Remus slowly stepped into the room and breathed in deeply, then he let his eyes stray over the five beds that stood in the room.

"We were only four Gryffindor boys in our year. Just the four of us. That one was Peter's", he gestured toward the bed near the door. "The next one was your father's, Sirius' was the one under the window and mine was this one. Aside from the fifth bed, it hasn't changed overly much in here either."

Remus made move to put his cloak onto his former bed, then stopped in mid-movement as if contemplating whether this was really a good idea. After a moment he put the cloak down on the bed and nodded.

"Not much in here has changed. Only the remaining world, but in here you could nearly forget that."

Harry understood what Remus meant. The room might still look like it had when Remus had lived here as a student, but everything else had changed. Remus was the only former inhabitant left, Peter Pettigrew had chosen to live as Wormtail in the service of the Dark Lord, after he had betrayed the friends he had shared his youth with. And his father and Sirius were dead now, leaving Remus the sole survivor. Somehow, Harry could understand that Remus was despairing with the momentary situation. If he imagined losing all his friends that way, he didn't know if he'd still be able to see the sense as well.

After a moment of contemplation, seemingly as if he was thinking whether he was making the right choice, Remus summoned his suitcase from the common room, placed it at the foot-end of the bed, substituting for the trunk which was normally placed there. His eyes strayed around the room for another moment, not really focussed but rather taking in all the small details he remembered from his time at school, then he nodded as if the decision he had made was a good one.

"Right. Now, how about you start unpacking your things while I go down into the dungeons and talk to Severus about your Occlumency lessons. Probably Albus did that already, but better make sure."

"Shouldn't I go with you? After all, they're my lessons, and after I stuck my head into his pensieve…well. And I haven't thanked him yet for coming to the hospital to help me."

Remus shook his head. "No, I doubt that would be a wise idea. And there is still something I need to settle with Severus which I didn't have the chance to do as of yet. You will get your chance of talking to him soon enough, but better let me have a look at what's expecting you first."

"If you think so."

Harry didn't' seem convinced, but he nodded nevertheless and went back into his own dormitory while Remus descended the spiral staircase and left the common room. Ten minutes later he found himself in front of Snape's office, but he didn't feel any wiser. He had told Harry the truth, there was still something he needed to settle between Snape and himself. During the pandemonium of the past days he had not forgotten that the last time he had seen his former classmate, he had been close to breaking Snape's jaw. Remus had no intention of apologizing to him, though. He and Snape had been walking a very thin line between aversion and silent tolerance for years now, and both of them knew that Snape had overstepped a line with what he had said that evening. Especially with saying it in front of everybody else in the kitchen. Remus was sorry that he had resorted to physical violence in the end, but only because it was something he had always tried to prevent. He didn't like to lose control of himself like that, and he would do anything to prevent it from happening again. But with their current arrangement, they would have to settle for a truce at least, otherwise the next weeks would be pure hell.

The many thoughts, doubts and questions in his mind caused another headache to rise, and Remus quickly tried to push them aside. He was still not as well as he would have liked, sometimes he felt even worse than he had done during the days before his collapse, but that would surely change again if only enough time passed. He simply needed to give his body more time to heal. Remus took another deep breath, rubbed the back of his right hand and then rose the left to knock on the door. For a moment there was no answer, then a tight and cold voice shortly said "Enter" from inside. Remus opened the door and stepped inside.

Snape was sitting behind his desk, and seeing the dark gloom of the office around him and the strange shapes which floated in the glass jars on the shelves, Remus got a good impression of what a student who was due for detention had to feel. Had he not known Snape for such a long time already, the whole scenario might have sent shivers up and down his spine. Snape was reading in a roll of parchment which lay on the desk in front of him, but as Remus entered he looked up to see who had come. Upon seeing that it was Remus, his eyes narrowed and he looked down on the parchment again.

"Leave", was all he said, his voice just as cold and tight as before. Remus shook his head and stepped up to the desk.

"Good afternoon, Severus."

"Lupin, I told you to leave."

"We have to talk", Remus simply said, but he made no movement to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Snape angrily cast the parchment aside so that it rolled of the desk and rose to his feet, glaring angrily at Remus from behind the desk.

"Doesn't the thought that I don't _want_ to talk to you go into your stubborn head? I most certainly won't have any kind of conversation with you after what happened the last time"

Remus calmly shook his head. "If you're expecting an apology, you're not going to get it. Just like I don't expect receiving an apology from you for what you said. What's done is done, and though I'm most certainly not proud on the fact that I resorted to means of physical violence, you know that you had no right to say what you did. And anyway, this is not what I came to talk about."

Snape rose an eyebrow and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed defiantly in front of his chest.

"Oh, and what did you come to talk about? I'm just dying to know."

"Harry."

Snape swiftly uncrossed his arms and stepped in front of the desk so that he was standing right in front of Remus. He was a tall man, but Remus was not all that much shorter, and facing as they were now both men were nearly at eye-level.

"Dumbledore already told me about Potter's newest problem, and the answer is no. Now leave."

Remus stared back into those furious coal-black eyes, unblinking. "Harry needs lessons in Occlumency, Severus."

"Then you ought to start searching for somebody who will give them to him. _I_ won't. I tried to last year, and even while I was still trying to teach him, he was not at all working with me. He didn't practice anything I taught him, he merely struggled to get through with the lessons so that he could go back to his friends again. That might not have stopped me from trying to teach him, but the moment he stuck his head in my Pensieve, he crossed a line. It has its reasons why I removed certain memories before the lessons, and just because Potter can't control his curiosity I'm not obliged to continue teaching that obnoxious brat"

"He made a mistake, Severus. A serious mistake, I won't deny that. I'm not trying to justify what he has done, certainly not. He should not have done what he did, and I think plenty of people have already told him that. And he understands it. But no matter your personal feelings on that subject, Harry needs those lessons now. I don't have the talent, and Albus can't afford the time. There is no other person I know who is skilled enough to teach him."

Snape shook his head and leaned back against the desk. "You certainly won't goad me into teaching him by telling me what a skilled Occlumencer I am."

"I did not try to at all. I know very well that you are aware of your skills and deficits, and you as well as I know that you're the best suited person for the task. I was not trying to goad you, I was trying to point out that nobody else is there who could do it."

"Why is that my problem, Lupin? Am I on the rota to save The Boy Who Lived again? I'd rather not be, considering what he did to Black when it was his turn. And he _liked_ the man, out of my understanding as that might be. Just imagine how someone Potter doesn't hold in good graces might end up."

"Stop it, Severus", Remus said sharply. "I will not allow you to talk about Sirius' death like that, and I won't let you place the blame for it on Harry alone. Especially since you didn't seem to care about Sirius' death at all, so you don't have the right to say anything about it."

A grin curled over Snape's face as if he was enjoying the situation immensely all of a sudden. Remus imagined that he did, now that he had found a weak spot he could poke and prod. But he was not doing this here for fun, he was doing it for Harry. So he needed to convince Snape of giving Harry the lessons he needed, and for that he needed to calm himself. "Harry is having dreams again."

"Give him a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Though maybe not one he himself tried to brew."

Remus breathed in deeply and sank down in one of the chairs in front of Snape's desk.

"Severus, I know that you don't like Harry. Nobody forces you to. But you as well as I will see the need to protect him from Voldemort for the time being. For as long as we can. Don't you"

Snape didn't move, but he made a grunting sound that Remus decided to see as reluctant acknowledgement. Enough for him to continue.

"We can hide him out at Grimmauld Place or here at Hogwarts for all we like, it's entirely senseless if he can't keep Voldemort out of his head. He needs to learn to shield his thoughts, for real this time. It probably was his fault that he didn't master Occlumency last year, and I will most certainly make him aware of how important it is for him to learn it now, but first and foremost he'll need a teacher."

Snape stared at Remus for a long moment, the only movement being the slow working of his lower jaw. He definitely didn't like what he was hearing, and most probably he also didn't like the conclusions his contemplations were offering him. After a few minutes, he turned and picked up the parchment which had fallen to the floor earlier.

"Every night at eight, if I have the time. Otherwise I'll let him know on short notice. And you would do well to advice him to cooperate this time. Otherwise this will be over quickly. We will start tonight. And now leave me to do my work."

"Thank you, Severus", Remus said, but Snape didn't turn around or acknowledge him in any way. Remus got up and left the office, breathing a sigh as he close the door behind himself. He would surely implant the importance of this into Harry's skull, especially after the struggle it had been to convince Snape just now.


	18. A Question of Strength

**Chapter 18 – A Question of Strength**

That evening at eight o'clock sharp Harry stood in front of the Potion master's office and knocked. He wasn't particularly pleased to be here, in fact he had rather hoped that Remus would be unable to convince Snape to continue his lessons. But somehow Remus had managed, and in addition to that he had also told Harry in no uncertain terms that he expected him to do his best and take whatever Snape told him seriously. He had tried last term, he really had, but it was not easy to be taught something this important by somebody he absolutely detested. However, he had given his promise to Remus that he would try, and so he had come here to try. If Snape only let him be for a moment, his constant provoking had never helped him. With a sigh, Harry knocked at the door and waited.

"Come in", Snape's voice came from inside and Harry had to give up his last feeble hopes that maybe the man was not there for some reason. Harry opened the door and stepped into the room, closing the door behind himself. Snape was standing next to his desk, looking at Harry as he entered.

"You're just in time, Potter."  
"Good evening…Sir", Harry said, remembering Snape's insistence on the title last year. Actually, he had sworn rather to bite his tongue off than saying it, but now that he was already here…well, he could also go the whole way then. He knew that Snape had helped him greatly, and he needed to thank him for it. Even though it was difficult to thank Severus Snape. "Thank you for agreeing to give me Occlumency lessons again. And thank you for helping me when I poisoned myself."

Snape looked at Harry for a moment, then he nodded. "We will still see whether I am wasting my time here. Now, do you remember what I have told you about Occlumency last term, or do we need to go over it all again?"

Harry shook his head and suppressed the anger that was rising up quickly in him. "No, I do remember. There is no need to tell me again."

"Good." Snape took out his wand, and then he turned towards the stone basin that stood on a shelf near the window. He did what Harry had seen him often before and what he now recognized as the act of disposing certain memories into a Pensieve. He felt slightly guilty for snooping around in it last year.

"Professor, about what I did with your Pensieve last year…"

Snape turned around so abruptly that Harry actually started a bit. Snape looked as furious as Harry had ever seen him, and he pointed the hand in which he held the wand at Harry.

"We will not talk about this", was all he said, then he turned and picked up the Pensieve to place it on the top shelf. Harry bit his lip and nodded, struggling to remember what exactly Snape had told him as preparation for last year's Occlumency lessons. Empty your mind, let go off all feelings. All right, sounded easy enough. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply a few times, trying to let go off the anger he felt towards Snape, the small stabbing sadness which had been his constant companion ever since Sirius' death, the frustration at being locked up here at Hogwarts instead of being with his friends.

"_Legilimens_!"

There had been no warning, Snape had simply cast the spell while Harry was still in his preparations. And before he knew what happened, he was back in the Death Chamber, and Bellatrix was taunting Sirius again, then there was this red burst of light and Sirius fell, fell backwards and through the archway, the archway through which he would never come back again.

Then he saw Remus lying in the hallway at Grimmauld Place, bleeding from a wound on his head and his body seized by heavy cramps.

More images flashed by in front of his mind's eye, but he tried to suppress them, tried to force them back, tried to force Snape to stop, but it was too overwhelming.

He was five again, sitting in the cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive, with his knees hugged to his chest and the tears streaming down his face. He had had that dream again, that dream which ended with the burst of green light and that horrible laughter in his head, only to wake up and find that he was alone and had nobody to comfort him, nobody to turn to…

_No! No, he would not let Snape see that, he would not give him that emotional leverage on himself._

A sharp pain in his elbow brought him back to reality. He was kneeling on the floor in Snape's office, his hurting elbow hugged to his chest. Obviously, he had hit the desk upon going to his knees. He sighed, shook his head and got up from the floor. Snape was towering above him, his wand in his hand and a slight sneer on his face.

"I thought you were fighting me, but then you gave in again. You have to rid yourself of your feelings, Potter. Otherwise it won't work. With every emotion you allow to take over, you hand the Dark Lord a potential weapon against you."

"I know that, sir. But can you tell me how I'm supposed to do that? I can't just force myself not to feel."

"It's not about not feeling, Potter", Snape shot back. "It's about how much you let those feelings control yourself. Of course you have feelings, and of course you can't just tune them off entirely. But you mustn't allow them to dominate you, especially when you're most vulnerable. At night, or in case you're ever confronted with the Dark Lord again. That is why we practice here, do you understand that?"

"Yes, of course I do, Professor."

"Then why don't you show it? You can feel me forcing myself into your mind, can't you? Fight it. Force me back, make me leave your mind. And as soon as you think you're able to, use your wand on me and do whatever you think you can to stop me."

Harry frustratedly ran a hand through his hair and took his wand out of his pocket. How could he possibly push away feelings that ran so deep? Maybe he should try to imagine what it would be like, facing Voldemort and handing over his deepest fears and hurts to him. He didn't particularly like Snape mocking him about it, and he certainly didn't want Voldemort to find out how he could hurt him best. Harry breathed in deeply and tried to imagine his mind as one big blank gap, a void in which nothing really mattered but this moment, nothing but his attempt to keep Snape out of his thoughts.

"_Legilimens_!"

Bellatrix' gloating face again, smiling wickedly at what she had done to her cousin, mocking him with his love for his godfather…

_No, no I don't want that. Expelliarmus! Go away, get out of my head! Expelliarmus!_

Remus, lying bleeding on the floor, and inside of Harry the fear of losing the last of his father's friends was rising…

_NO! No, he would not let it control him. There had to be nothing on his mind, no hurts, no cares, no love. Expelliarmus!_

Uncle Vernon standing before him, his face a deep purple and spittle flying from his mouth as he yelled at the seven year old Harry for burning the toast.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Harry opened his eyes and found himself on his knees again, but this time he had his wand raised and pointed at his professor. Snape appeared to be unharmed, and though Harry distinctly remembered casting a disarming spell, he still had his wand in his hand. With a groan, Harry rose to his feet again. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You were fighting, but still you allow me to penetrate too deep into your mind, Potter."

"Did I cast the spell?", Harry asked a bit breathlessly, and for once didn't get reprimanded for omitting the 'sir' in his question.

"You did cast a disarming spell, but it was not strong enough to yield any results. There are things you cannot entirely free yourself of, but you must."

"I'm trying to, I'm trying to. It's only difficult."

Snape raised an eyebrow and twirled his wand in his hand once. "Well, nobody promised you that it would be easy." He thought for a moment, stepping back and forth between his desk and the window as he thought about something. Finally, he stepped up beside the desk again.

"Focus, Potter. You need to focus on the feelings you can't control as of yet. Make yourself aware of why they have such a control over yourself and then let go of them. What's done is done, what happened can't be changed anymore. What you can change now is if you will survive this war or not. We will try it again."

Harry nodded and gripped his wand tightly in his right hand. Snape made it sound so easy, but in fact it was bloody difficult. Sirius' death especially was a hurt he could not just simply ignore, let alone suppress somehow. Maybe he could not enforce it, maybe he had to accept that it was a hurt he would never be able to control entirely. Sirius was dead, and it hurt like hell, but he could not change it anymore. Snape was right, wherever that horrible thought came from. It hurt, but for now he simply had to accept that. He had already vowed to himself not to let it control his nightly dreams anymore, so he surely would not give Snape the satisfaction of proving unable to do so. Focus, that was the magic word. Focus.

"_Legilimens_!"

Snape prodding into his mind was an uncomfortable feeling, like someone pulling his worst thoughts out of their hiding places. Again he felt a tug that was about to pull out the memories of the night in the Death Chamber, but Harry didn't want that.

_NO! No, I won't let you! Stupefy! Stupefy!_

"_Stupefy_!"

For a moment nothing happened, then there was another image. Uncle Vernon, telling his sister Marge all those lies about Harry's father, and Harry felt his anger rising…

"_Stupefy_!"

Harry felt himself stumble backwards, arms flaying as if in search of something to hold on to, but meting only thin air. He fell onto his back, his head impacting with the stone floor so hard that bright red stars erupted behind his eyes. For a moment he lay there, panting and trying to discern whether the headache was coming from the knock on the head or from Snape's lesson.

"Get up, Potter", he heard his teacher's voice above him fro a moment, and as he moved to sit up and open his eyes, he found that Snape was standing over him, looking down with an expressionless gaze. Harry got to his feet, one hand rubbing the aching back of his head. Only then did he notice the thin line of blood that ran out of Snape's nose and down onto his lower lip. Before he could say anything, Snape had pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood away.

"Better", he said. "You didn't' waste your strength with unnecessary screaming this time. But it was still not strong enough to stop me entirely. You need to work on your focus. But that has been enough for today, Potter."

Harry nodded and pocketed his wand again.

"May I ask a question, sir?"

"Concerning Occlumency, you may."

"I think I understand what you mean with clearing my mind. But when you're trying to break into my thoughts, you're standing in front of me, and I know that you're doing it. I can prepare, at least a bit. But you said I was most vulnerable against Vol…against him at night, when I was asleep. There is nothing I can do to control my thoughts there."

Harry was glad that he had not called Voldemort by his name, otherwise Snape would have surely gotten angry again. Snape indeed seemed to give the matter some serious thought. Finally he nodded.

"Nothing as of yet, no. But in any case you need to master shielding your thoughts from a person who is trying to break into them directly. Once you have mastered that, your awareness for when the Dark Lord might try to use his connection to you will heighten. You will realize more than you do now. And you will be able to shield yourself, automatically, without conscious thought. If you are able to master the art of Occlumency, that is. For now there is nothing you can do to than try to clear your mind before you sleep. And you have to do that."

"I did try to, last year. But it didn't work. I kept on seeing that corridor in the Department of Mysteries, every night."

"You probably think it has not worked, but I doubt that you really tried to, Potter. You can't just lie down and close your eyes, you need to make a conscious effort to clear everything from your mind before you go to sleep. No matter how long it takes. For now this is a conscious effort. It's something you have to learn, Potter, nobody will present you the solution on a silver platter like you might be used to have it. You're dismissed, we'll continue this tomorrow at the same time."

Harry started a bit at this brisk dismissal, but he nodded and turned towards the door.

"Thank you, Professor", he said though something inside of him protested against it. Snape didn't answer, so Harry turned towards the office door and left the room.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A conscious effort my ass, Harry though as he lay in his bed that night. Clearing his mind like he had done that evening in Snape's office did work to some degree, but even if he did so, he was unable to fall asleep. And before long, thoughts and contemplations started to come up again and his mind was anything but cleared and empty. He sighed and rolled over, starting anew with clearing all thoughts from his mind. Ten minutes later he was lying on his back again, arms crossed behind his head, staring up against the ceiling. No, it definitely didn't work. He only wondered what Snape would say to this during their next session.

After another ten minutes, Harry realized that it was futile to try and fall asleep now, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. The air in the room was cold, so he quickly slipped into a pair of shoes, wrapped himself in a dressing gown and left the dormitory. He walked silently so that he would not wake Remus in the room next to his, but as he descended the spiral staircase down to the common room he realized that he needn't have worried. Remus was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, his knees drawn up to his chest and staring into the flickering flames. For a moment Harry just stood there and stared at his unmoving former teacher, but then the thought that he might be disturbing Remus entered his mind and he was about to turn around.

"You can as well come down, Harry."

Remus' voice was low, but Harry understood the words clearly. Slowly, he stepped into the room and walked over towards the fireplace, settling on the other end of the sofa at Remus' indication.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you."

Remus, like Harry clad in a pair of pyjamas and a dressing gown, finally tore his eyes away from the fireplace and looked at Harry. He smiled slightly.

"You didn't disturb me, Harry. But why are you still awake, you went to bed over an hour ago."

Harry shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I was trying to practice what Snape had told me that I should do before falling asleep, and it didn't work."

Remus turned to the right so that he was facing Harry, his knees still drawn up to his chest and his arms circled around them, the left hand clasping the right.

"Something not right?"

"I don't know. Snape told me that I need to clear my mind. It doesn't even work yet when Snape's trying to get into my thoughts, and clearing my mind before I fall asleep doesn't really work, I think."

Remus wanted to say something, but at that moment there was a low pop behind them, and a high-pitched and croaky voice interrupted him.

"Master Harry Potter! Dobby didn't know that Master Potter was at Hogwarts! Such a pleasure to see you!"

Harry turned around and found Dobby standing behind the sofa, excitedly whipping on the balls of his feet, his huge eyes wide open and the house elf equivalent of a face-splitting grin on his face.

"Dobby, hello! How are you?"

"Dobby is fine, Harry Potter. A lot of work to be done at Hogwarts, Dobby is glad to be here."

The house elf carried a tray with a pot and a cup over to the table and placed it in front of Remus. Remus smiled at the house elf.

"Thank you, Dobby."

"My pleasure, Master Lupin. Shall Dobby be fetching another cup for Master Potter?"

Harry nodded and immediately Dobby had vanished, only to appear a moment later with another cup and also a plate of biscuits in his hand.

"Thank you, Dobby."

"Master Potter will come visit Dobby in the kitchens when he has time?"

Harry laughed. "Of course I will, Dobby. Tomorrow, if I can manage. Good night."  
Dobby gave a small bow as Remus bade him good night, then he vanished with another pop. Remus reached for the pot the elf had brought, pouring first Harry then himself a cup of hot chocolate. The rich scent of the hot drink engulfed Harry immediately, making him realize just how drowsy he was. He drank a sip and then kept the cup between his palms for warmth, a rather unnecessary action as it was not cold in the common room, but it was a comfortable gesture nevertheless. Remus seemed to search for the right line of thought for a moment, then he picked up their conversation at the point when Dobby had interrupted them.

"I'm not a master of Occlumency myself, but I'd say like every form of magic it takes a certain practice to master."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I know, that's what Snape said as well. It's just…I don't know, it's difficult. I know it was hard enough to convince him to give me those lessons again. I might hate his guts, and the thought that I need to shield my mind from Voldemort is disconcerting at the best, but from what it was like last year, I know that Snape will freak out on me if he gets the feeling that I'm not trying hard enough. I was trying to clear my mind like he told me, but it doesn't work. I can't fall asleep like that, and it doesn't take long until I start thinking about things again. I asked Snape how I'm supposed to do it, but he only said I needed to practice it until I could. That doesn't help me much."

Remus leaned back and ran his fingers absent-mindly across the rim of his cup.

"Severus is a very powerful wizard, and in his field he is one of the best teachers you can get", he smiled as he saw Harry's face turn into a grimace. "You might not agree with his didactic methods, or the way he treats the students of his house compared to the students of other houses, but you will not easily find another wizard who knows just as much about potions as he does. Occlumency is not something he usually teaches, and though he is an extremely talented Occlumencer, it is something entirely different than teaching potions. Potions is distant, it's about brewing something in a cauldron, about ingredients, their right measure and their correct preparation. To Severus it's an art, to you it might not be more than a nuisance, but fact is it's something entirely different than Occlumency. Occlumency is magic which concerns the minds of the wizards involved. In order to teach you how to master it, he needs to prod the weak spots in your mind to tell you how to properly shield them."

Harry shook his head. "But that's not what he does. He prods all right, and he keeps on telling me that I have to shield those thoughts, but he doesn't tell me how."

Remus finished his chocolate and refilled his cup.

"Because he doesn't know how, Harry."

"Damn good it does to let him teach me then."

"No, there you're mistaken. That is something he cannot teach you because you have to find it out by yourself. You have to find out how to deal with your fears, hurts, your cares and every other deep emotion yourself, so that you don't show them like an open book in case Voldemort ever tries to break into your mind again."

"I can't just stop feeling, can I?"

Harry didn't like how shaky his voice sounded, but Remus gave no indication that he had realized it.

"No, you can't. In fact, it would be horrible if you would. And nobody wants to force you to suppress your feelings, but you cannot allow them to control you. Especially in your dreams. That is the crucial distinction. A side-affect of you mastering Occlumency would be that those nightmares would if not vanish, then at least recede."

Harry filled the last of the hot chocolate into his empty cup and settled back on the sofa.

"That still doesn't help me to find out how to do what Snape asks of me."

"I don't think you can do anything until you know what is really bothering you. When Severus forces himself into your mind, he makes certain memories and feelings flare up again. That is where you have to start. You have to analyze what those memories mean to you, what power they hold over you and why. Only when you have dealt with them, you can stop Voldemort from using them as a weapon against you."

Harry bit his lip as he thought about what Remus had said to him. It sounded easy, but Harry knew that most things sounded easier than they were.

"I can't just deal with…with what Snape makes me see. Not with everything."

"It's Sirius' death, isn't it?", Remus asked softly, left hand absent-mindedly tracing the thing scar on the back of his right hand. Harry nodded after a short moment of hesitation.

"The dreams are still there, not every night, but still. And whenever Snape tries to teach me, it's always the first thing I see. I just can't stop feeling about it the way I do."

Remus didn't answer to that, and when Harry looked at him he realized that Remus' gaze was turned towards the fire, his eyes unfocussed. Harry didn't quite know what to do, he knew that talking about Sirius had conjured up memories they both didn't necessarily want to have right now. Sirius had meant very much to Harry, far more than the teenager had thought possible until he had understood that he'd never see him again, but to Remus he had meant so much more. Sirius had been Remus' friend ever since the two had been children, and there had been a couple of rough spots the two had gone through together. Remus missed Sirius probably far more than Harry did, and already he regretted that he had to remind Remus of him. Finally, Remus tore his eyes away from the fire.

"No, you can't just stop the way you feel about it", he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We all have to bear some hurts in our life, Harry. Some of us more, some less. The hurt of losing a loved one is not something that can be dealt with easily. And there are some hurts that simply can't be dealt with at all. Then the only question is if you're strong enough to live with the loss, or if you aren't."

Silence settled over the room, and Harry felt as if something clenched his chest together. That finality was something he had not dared to let get close to him until now. He had chickened out from the realization until now, maybe because some part of his mind had told him that if he only put that realization away, then it all would not be true. But now that he looked at Remus, the finality sank in. Rapidly. In the flickering light from the fireplace, Remus' face looked so much older than it had ever done to Harry. There were lines around his eyes and mouth which now seemed like dark shadows, his eyes were sunk in and their gaze was numb. Remus had not looked really healthy ever since Harry had first seen his former teacher during the summer holidays, something that had found its climax in his collapse a few days earlier, but even despite all the care he had received by Madam Pomfrey and the others he still looked shockingly unhealthy.

Remus had said that there were some hurts too deep to ever be dealt with, and with a horrible lurch of his stomach Harry asked himself whether Remus was still strong enough to deal with this latest loss. Remus had lost awfully much in his life, and Harry was aware that he didn't know everything about his former teacher's life that there was to know. But the little he did know was bad enough. Harry had not been treated kindly by life, but neither had Remus been. His life had been probably even worse than Harry's so far, and Harry's had not been good at all for the first eleven years. It had gotten remarkably better afterwards, but still Sirius' death was a hard enough emotional strike for him to make despair rise. How bad must it been for Remus, who had lost so many others and so much else before Sirius had died? What did Sirius' death do to the man? He had not even been aware of his fear of losing Remus until Snape had prodded those thoughts into his conscious awareness, but now this fear was there and would not go way again.

"And are you? Strong enough, I mean", he asked in a low voice. Remus just put his cup on the table and looked at his folded hands in his lap.

"I don't know, Harry. I just don't know."

He breathed in deeply a few times, then he got up from his place on the sofa and turned towards the staircase.

"Good night, Harry."

And he silently vanished up the stairs, leaving Harry to sit on the sofa staring into the flames like Remus had done earlier when Harry had found him. Remus' words and his behaviour had scared him. He could relate to his former teacher's feeling of hopelessness, but still it scared him to see Remus like that. The question what still kept him going was popping up in his mind. Remus had wanted to leave Grimmauld Place a few days ago, and only his physical condition had stopped him from doing so. Of course his reasons for leaving had not changed over night, yet Remus had still agreed to accompany Harry to Hogwarts. Why? Remus had said he had promised Professor Dumbledore to take care of him, but did Remus do all this solely because he felt responsible for his safety? Obviously, being here conjured up painful memories about his time as a student here. Harry didn't want to be the cause of further harm for Remus, but right now there was nothing he could do about it. With a sigh, he put his cup down onto the table and went up into his dormitory. He was too exhausted to think about anything before he fell asleep, but was aware that even if he had known how, today he'd have been unable to clear his mind of all thoughts.


	19. Rising Worries

**Chapter 19 – Rising Worries**

The next two days passed in a leisurely rhythm. Harry got up late and had breakfast in the Gryffindor common room. Dobby always had breakfast prepared for him, but as Remus used to get up earlier than Harry did, Harry had to take the breakfast alone. He then occupied himself either with the last bits of his summer assignments in the library, with visits to Dobby in the kitchens, or with flying on the Quidditch-pitch. The greatest disappointment was that Ron would not join him at Hogwarts anytime soon. On the day after Harry's arrival, Ron's owl Pigwidgeon had knocked on the window of the Gryffindor common room, carrying a letter from Harry's best friend. Seemingly, Ron's parents thought it was safest to keep their youngest son within their immediate reach for the next few days and simply would not allow him to join Harry at Hogwarts. They didn't doubt that he'd be safe there as well, but for the time being relied on his older brothers to keep him company and make sure that nothing unforeseen happened. Harry was a bit disappointed, but Ron wrote that he'd probably join him at Hogwarts with Ginny and Hermione as soon as the latter returned from France, earlier if anything else happened in the meantime.

In the evenings, Harry went to Snape's office to continue his Occlumency lessons. In all truth he was royally fed up with it already after the first session, but he had promised Remus, and he also knew that it was important for him to protect himself from the dreams which were connected to Voldemort. But still, he didn't like the feeling of Snape trying to enter his mind. It was too early yet to say whether he was making any progress, but on the second night he really managed to ward Snape off one time. He had been very intent on keeping Snape out of his mind that day, his first night at Hogwarts had been spent with another nightmare about Sirius' death and he didn't want Snape to poke around in that particularly painful memory. So when Snape had started to penetrate his mind, Harry had managed to push him back quickly and had cast a scorching hex that had sent the Potion master's sleeve on fire. Harry had been thunderstruck upon finding what he had done with his professor, but Snape had calmly extinguished the flames with a wave of his wand. He had then fetched some kind of salve from a shelf and started applying it to the burn marks on his wrist. Snape had briskly warded off Harry's apologies, stating that he had meant it when he had told Harry to defend himself in every way he could think of. But that had been the only time he had managed to keep Snape out of his mind. And though there might be a slight progress in his Occlumency lessons with Snape, but his nightly efforts of keeping his mind clear were something different entirely. He had not dared to ask Snape any further about it yet, but he simply did not manage to let go off all things that were bothering him before he fell asleep.

On the second day after his arrival, Harry went into the Hogwarts library to finish his Charms essay, one of the last bits of holiday assignments that he had not done yet. The library was a comfortable place to be, it was silent – though the rest of the castle was not exactly humming with activity, either – and nothing was there to disturb him. Madam Pince was not in the castle during the holidays, and without the presence of the rather stern librarian Harry felt really comfortable in the library rooms.

Harry had gotten up extremely late that morning, and had found his breakfast brought to the common room by a house elf with no trace of Remus. Now that he went into the library, however, he found that he was not the only one here today. Remus was sitting at one of the tables, head bent over a stack of parchments in front of him. A few reference books were scattered across the table in front of him, all opened on various pages with pieces of parchment for further reference stuck between other pages. He turned around slightly as Harry entered. Harry was still a bit hesitant to interact with Remus after the strange ending of their conversation in the Gryffindor common room, but Remus did not behave any differently to Harry. He had not mentioned their conversation again, and nothing in his behaviour indicated that he was thinking overly much about it. Harry went along with that, he felt a bit uncomfortable thinking about the raw emotions he had seen his former teacher display.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning, Remus. Mind if I sit down here?"

Remus shook his head. "No, of course not."

Harry put his parchments, quill and ink down on the empty half of the table and sat down so that he was facing Remus. Remus was seemingly about to make a short break, for he had put down his quill and was looking at how Harry unrolled his parchments and reference notes.

"Charms?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Two rolls of parchment, but I'm nearly finished. I just wanted to give it the final touch. And you…if I may ask", he added quickly, remembering that Remus was probably doing some Order business here and would not be allowed to tell him. But Remus only shrugged.

"Two intercepted letters Albus asked me to translate. Copies of those letters, rather. They're in Russian."

Harry's eyebrows went up. "You speak Russian?"

Remus smiled and shook his head. "I wouldn't say I speak it. I only know some basics, hence all the reference works. But I have a knack for languages, I generally don't find it difficult to understand the basic structures of a language, and once you've figured that out it's not that big a step to translate a written text."

Harry nodded, rather stunned. He had enough to do with learning Latin spells, the thought that Remus seemed to be working himself into new and unknown languages on a regular basis was completely alien to him. He was glad that he 'only' had his Charms homework to finish.

"If you say so. I wouldn't want to be doing it, though."

Remus laughed. "Nobody expects you to."

With a sigh, Harry pulled his parchments closer to him. "No, you're right. But Professor Flitwick expects me to finish this essay, so I should better go to work, then I can go flying for a bit later on."

They sat working in silence for about an hour after that, the only sound being the scratching of the quills on parchment and the occasional turning of a page. Finally, Harry blew the ink on his parchment dry and rolled it up, content with the essay he had produced. Charms was not one of his problematic subjects, and no matter what his O.W.L. results, he would continue with it if he could. As he put his essay aside, the lack of writing-sounds from across made him look up. Remus had put his quill aside, his head in his hands and massaging his temples, his reading glasses lying in front of him on the letter he had translated.

"Are you all right?", Harry asked lowly. Remus looked up and quickly nodded.

"Yes, I'm all right. I just have a headache, I always get that when I'm reading too much. Shouldn't have seated myself with my back to the window, I blocked out the light." He straightened up in his chair. "You want to join me on a stroll to the kitchen? I'm rather hungry."

Harry nodded and picked up his rolled parchments. "Sure, just let me bring that stuff into the common room."

He was keeping a careful eye on Remus, though. Harry had not yet mastered the art of distinguishing between the various degrees of not-looking-good which Remus displayed as of late, but today he didn't seem to be doing fine at all. There was that headache, for one, and Harry doubted that it came from reading while blocking out the light. The second thing was that he was abnormally pale again, as if he hadn't seen the sun in months. The haggard features Harry had already gotten used to over the past weeks, though it was still shocking to see just how badly Remus had wasted away since Sirius' death. Harry knew that full moon was less than a week away, but there was still a nagging doubt that Remus' condition was to blame entirely on his lycanthropy.

They went into the Gryffindor common room where Harry deposited his essay no the table in the corner, then they went down the stairs and along the corridors until they had reached the picture of the giant fruit-bowl that marked the entrance to the kitchens. Remus reached out to tickle the pear, and the painting swung aside to reveal the large rooms in which the food for the Hogwarts students was prepared during school year. The two stepped into the room, and immediately Dobby and another house elf stormed towards them, bowing fervently.

"Master Harry Potter! How can Dobby be of service?"

Harry had to think for a moment. It wasn't so long ago that he had eaten breakfast, but the kitchens always made him slightly hungry.

"You wouldn't have a strawberry pasty, would you Dobby?"

Dobby enthusiastically bobbed his head and vanished to the back of the room, only to come back a moment later with a pasty on a plate and a large glass of milk which he put in front of Harry.

"Harry Potter is wanting anything else?"

Harry shook his head and settled on a chair. "No, thank you Dobby."  
Next to him, Remus was starting on the sandwich he had been handed by the other house elf. Harry turned back towards Dobby.

"Where's Winky, by the way?"

Dobby hopped onto the table in front of Harry, sat down and sadly shook his head.

"Winky is still here, she is helping Mistress Pomfrey in the hospital wing this week."

"Is she doing a bit better?", Harry asked, remembering how badly the female house elf had been dealing with her newly gained freedom. Dobby shook his head.

"Winky is doing better, then Winky is doing worse. Sometimes she still drinks too much butterbeer, and Winky doesn't talk that much anymore. But Winky's better than last time Master Potter has seen her."

Harry didn't quite know what to respond to that.

"Well, tell her I said hello if you see her. I'd like to see her again, and it's always a bit difficult once the school year has started. But maybe I'll meet her during the next days."

"Dobby will tell Winky, she will be very happy that master Potter asked for her."

Harry finished the last forkful of his delicious strawberry pasty, savouring the taste and washing it down with the remaining milk in his glass. He'd probably skip lunch today, it was already half past eleven and he felt pleasantly full at the moment. He looked up at Dobby again to say something else, but suddenly the elfs huge eyes bulged in alarm and Harry quickly spun around just in time to see Remus slide off his chair and to the floor.

"Master Lupin!", Dobby cried and jumped off the table. Harry felt cold and shaky all of a sudden, and without realizing it got up from his own chair and knelt down next to Remus.

"Remus, Remus can you hear me?"

But Remus obviously didn't hear him. He had curled up on his side, shaking with the cramps that seized through his body, his hands clenched into fists, and his breathing loud and laboured. It looked scaringly like the seizure Harry had seen him suffer from at Grimmauld Place, and Harry's panic was rising quickly.

"Dobby, go and get Madam Pomfrey, quickly!"

He didn't even see the house elf leave, but he hoped that Dobby had heard him. His heart breathing fast in his throat, Harry brought up a hand and put it against Remus' forehead. His former teacher's skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and when Harry reached for a pulse, he found it fast and erratic.

"It'll be all right, help is on its way", he mumbled, more to assure himself than to assure Remus, who obviously didn't realize anything that was going on around him. A house elf materialized at his shoulder with a blanket in its bony hands, and Harry gratefully took it. He didn't know if it would help Remus at all, but his skin felt cold, and the small action gave Harry the feeling that he at least could do something. He wrapped the blanket tightly around Remus and chafed his icy forearms and hands for warmth, praying that Madam Pomfrey would just hurry the hell up. There was a rush behind him, and a moment later somebody knelt down next to him.

"All right Mr. Potter, what has happened here?"

Harry had never been so relieved to hear Madam Pomfrey's voice before. The Hogwarts nurse was kneeling next to him, wand at the ready, and that image alone calmed Harry a little.

"I don't know, from one moment to the next he collapsed. It looks…I don't know, but it looks a bit like what happened to him at Grimmauld Place."

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Remus a few times, nodding and mumbling to herself. There was a visible frown etched into her features, a sign of grudgingly accepted defeat, as she finally leaned back on her heels.

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait it out, there's nothing I can do against the seizure. I couldn't the last time, either."

She tucked a stray corner of the blanket tighter around Remus, checked his pulse and temperature again and again, until after endless minutes the cramps eased. Remus' breathing became slower and more regular, and a slight bit of colour returned to his face. Madam Pomfrey got up from the floor and pointed her wand at Remus.

"_Mobilis Corpus_!"

A stretcher materialized underneath Remus' unconscious body, and with a quick wave of her wand Madam Pomfrey levitated it towards the door. Harry moved to follow her, but once they were out in the corridor and Madam Pomfrey turned towards the staircase, she halted Harry.

"Potter, please go and send Professor Snape up to the infirmary."

"I want to stay with Remus", Harry protested, but Madam Pomfrey warded him off. "You can stay with him after I finished my examination. But first I'd like you to send Professor Snape up to the infirmary."

Harry nodded, though still reluctantly.

"All right."

And so Madam Pomfrey levitated the Remus' unconscious form up the stairs, and Harry turned towards the staircase that would take him down to the dungeons. He didn't particularly fancy seeing Snape before their evening appointment, but if Madam Pomfrey needed him for something about Remus' examination, then he'd comply. Snape was not in his office, though, and for a moment Harry wondered what would be if he was not at the castle. He was not in the potions classroom, either, but there was still his private workroom at the end of the corridor. Harry had hardly ever been there, but he knew that this was where Snape brewed all the potions that were not connected to his classes, meaning the ones he brewed for Professor Dumbledore, for the Hogwarts infirmary and…well, Harry didn't exactly know if he brewed potions for Voldemort, but if he did, then he surely didn't do it in the classroom. Harry quickly hurried down the corridor and knocked on the door. After a moment, Snape's annoyed voice sounded from the inside.

"Enter."

Harry opened the door and stepped over the threshold. Snape was indeed standing behind his workbench, a simmering cauldron in front of him and a number of ingredients lined up next to it. He looked up as Harry entered, an angry glare in his eyes.

"What, Mr. Potter? I've got work to do, it's not eight yet."

"I'm sorry, Professor. Remus collapsed again, and Madam Pomfrey asked me to send you up to the infirmary."

Snape just stared at Harry for a moment, then grunted angrily, mumbled something about ingredients going to waste, but with a quick wave extinguished the flames underneath the cauldron. Impatiently, he gestured towards the door.

"Then what are you waiting for, Potter?"

Harry and his least liked professor silently climbed the stairs and walked down the corridors that would take them towards the infirmary. Snape didn't seem to be in a hurry to get there, which irked Harry. He could hardly wait to see how Remus was doing, but he'd never give Snape the satisfaction of hurrying to the infirmary right in front of his eyes. He quickened his pace slightly in hopes of making Snape go faster as well, and only hoped that Madam Pomfrey would already know just what was wrong with Remus by the time they arrived in the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey didn't. After what seemed like a small eternity, Harry and Snape finally reached the infirmary and without bothering to knock, opened the doors and stepped through. Madam Pomfrey was bending over the only occupied bed in the room, the frown on her face telling them quickly that she was none the wiser as to the reason for Remus' collapse. Not caring about Harry's presence, Snape stepped up to the bed and looked at the Hogwarts nurse.

"All right, what happened now?"

Madam Pomfrey shrugged and stepped back a bit, leaving Snape to stand alone next to Remus' unconscious form.

"A house elf called me to the kitchens earlier. Remus collapsed again, just like a few days ago."

Snape frowned, then looked away from Remus and stepped back again.

"Then why did you call me up here? I examined him a few days ago, and could not find any trace of somebody poisoning him. And now he hasn't even been exposed to the possibility of somebody poisoning him, not unless there is a house elf at Hogwarts who holds a grudge against him."

Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at Snape. Her voice was hard as she spoke, making clear that her calling Snape up here had not been a request as much as an order.

"Remus is my patient, and until I can determine exactly what is wrong with him I want every possibility excluded. I want to know for sure that nobody tried to poison Remus, so if you'd please do what needs to be done to find that out."

Snape sighed dramatically.

"I'll need a blood-sample."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and pressed a vial into his hand. "I thought you would. Thank you."

Snape grunted something and turned around, even more than usual resembling an overgrown bat as he left the room with billowing robes. Harry hesitantly stepped closer to the bed and turned a questioning gaze onto the Hogwarts nurse. Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"I don't know what is wrong with him, Mr. Potter. Did you notice anything unusual about him this morning?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, nothing unusual. I mean, he was pale and looked ill, but that hasn't been unusual as of late, has it?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "No, I'm afraid it hasn't. Nothing else?"

Again, Harry shook his head. "No. He had a headache, but said it came from reading in bad light. Then we went to the kitchen for something to eat and he collapsed. He said he was hungry, though, if that counts for something. I don't know when he had breakfast."

Madam Pomfrey shrugged, but a small voice from behind her interrupted whatever she ha been about to say.

"Master Lupin never takes breakfast."

It was Winky, standing behind Madam Pomfrey with an wastepaper basket she had obviously just emptied in her hands. Winky looked slightly better than the last time Harry had seen her, but that didn't count for all that much, as she had looked horrible the last time he had seen her. There was no time for him to greet her, though, as Madam Pomfrey quickly turned around upon hearing her words.

"Are you sure about that?"

Winky cowered away a little at the harsh tone of the nurse's voice, but nodded her head.

"Dobby told Winky that Master Lupin never took breakfast. Winky knows for sure, because Dobby makes the food for Mater Lupin and Master Potter. Master Lupin ate a bit of lunch and dinner every day, but nothing more."

Madam Pomfrey sighed resignedly, but managed to smile at the house elf. "Thank you, Winky."

Winky nodded her head at the dismissal and with a low pop vanished. Madam Pomfrey turned towards Remus' bed again, a frown on her forehead.

"Typical", she muttered, then went to the small cabinet behind her desk and searched through it.

"What is wrong with Remus?"

"Well, he is extremely weak, that's what's wrong with him. Those seizures don't stem from him not eating enough, but lacking nourishment of course increases their effect on him. He might manage better to deal with them if he was eating regularly, but of course he's too stubborn to see that. He has always been like that, Mr. Potter."

"But he'll be all right again, won't he?"

Harry didn't like the sound of his own words, but he needed to know. The first time Remus had collapsed, Harry had not allowed any other thought than that it was a one-time occurrence. Now that it had happened again, Harry was afraid what would become of it. Madam Pomfrey had told him in no uncertain terms that Remus was physically weak, and Harry didn't even want to contemplate that he could be too weak to deal with those seizures any further. Would there be another one, and if there'd be, when would it happen? What in Merlin's name was wrong with Remus? Harry had always had the utmost faith in Madam Pomfrey's ability to deal with everything she was confronted with. She had managed to wake the petrified students again, she had grown the bones in his arm back, she had treated Hermione after that botched attempt at taking a Polyjuice potion. The fact that she didn't even know what was wrong with Remus scared Harry, and that realization settled like an ugly weight in his stomach. He was scared that Madam Pomfrey would not find out what was wrong with him in time to treat it. Harry had already lost Sirius, he didn't want to lose Remus as well. Why did it always have to hit the people around him? His parents, Sirius, and now Remus – had it something to do with him? Did people who tried to take care of him put their life into more danger than he had been aware of? Harry would have gladly agreed never to see Remus again if that guaranteed that the man would be all right, but that was not a chance he had been offered.

"Can I stay with him?"

Madam Pomfrey was absent-mindly shaking the flask she had been searching for earlier and nodded at Harry's request.

"Of course, if you want to. He'll probably be asleep for the next couple of hours, though, but if you want to stay here."

Harry nodded and the nurse waved at Remus' bed in an invitation for Harry to take a seat on a chair next to it.

"Just keep in mind that he needs a lot of rest. But maybe you'll be able to convince him that he needs to take a bit better care of himself."

She put the small bottle onto the bedside table next to Remus' bed and left Harry to sit up with him without another word. Harry sank down into a chair he pulled up next to the bed and took a good look at his former teacher. Remus was still abnormally pale, he looked wasted and ill. His breathing was low and regular again, though, at least that was something. And he looked as if he needed the rest his body was getting at the moment. With a sigh Harry leaned back in his chair and settled for the wait.


	20. First Traces

**Chapter 20 – First Traces**

Another blazing headache, that was Remus' first thought upon waking up again. This was getting customary, obviously, and he hated it. As the world slowly spun into focus, he was surprised to find himself lying in the Hogwarts infirmary. How had he gotten here? He had been in the library, translating the letter Albus had given him, that much he remembered. Harry had come and they had gone to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat. After that…nothing. Great, not only headaches, but also gaps in his memory. This was getting better and better. As he turned his head slightly, he found himself looking into a pair of worried green eyes.

"Good morning Remus."

"Good morning Harry. What happened?"

The teenager shifted on his chair and looked uncomfortable. "You collapsed again, when we were in the kitchens. Don't you remember?"

Remus thought for a moment, but then he shook his head, grimacing as his headache only increased with the motion.

"No, I'm afraid not. Listen Harry, could you maybe call Madam Pomfrey? I have the most monstrous headache I can remember."

Harry smiled shyly and got up from his chair.

"Of course, just a moment."

He vanished behind the curtain that was drawn around Remus' bed. Remus distinctly heard the sound of a conversation from the far end of the room, then Madam Pomfrey's steps were approaching his bed. Then nurse stepped around the curtain and smiled at Remus.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Horrible. Headache."

Madam Pomfrey handed him the goblet she was carrying. "I shouldn't wonder. Drink this, that should ease the pain."

Remus gratefully took the goblet and drank the nasty-tasting potion in one gulp, then handed it back to the nurse.

"Thank you."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Don't thank me too early. Here, I also want you to drink this."

"What's that?"

"A nourishing potion. And I want to hear no protest, your body needs it."

Remus knew when it was useless to say anything, so he wordlessly drank the potion - its taste hardly any better than the last one - and handed the bottle back. Madam Pomfrey threw it into the wastepaper basket and crossed her arms in front of his chest.

"All right, now the two of us will have a little talk, how about that?"

Remus sighed loudly and sat up in his bed.

"This is getting customary?"

"If you collapsing is doing so, then those little talks will become as well. I thought I had implanted the importance of nourishment to you the last time that we talked."

Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not a child, Poppy."

"No, because even children know that they need to eat."

"I wasn't particularly hungry, but it's not as if I've starved myself."

The nurse frowned and made a noise in her throat. "Well, of course I'm only a studied healer, but I have taken the liberty of examining you after you suddenly collapsed again without any reason at all", she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what I've come up with during my examination tells me something entirely different, Remus. As weak as your condition was by the time you were brought here, I think it's a small wonder that you were able to get up yesterday, let alone move around. Now, where does that come from, I wonder?"

Remus sat up a bit straighter and looked at the nurse.

"I don't know, Poppy. I simply don't know. Let's not beat about the bush, I know that I've not taken good care of myself during the past weeks. But it's been nowhere as bad as you put it. I didn't eat well, but I _did_ eat. I didn't feel well, but I was not a walking corpse. I also admit that I had problems sleeping, but not being well-rested is something else entirely than collapsing like that. I simply don't know what the reason for my collapses is, I'm sorry to admit it. I know you are a very good healer, if you don't know what the possible reason an be, then I'm afraid I don't have any answers."

Madam Pomfrey sighed.

"Remus, I don't particularly fancy having you delivered unconscious to my infirmary on a regular basis. This time it was worse than the last. The seizure lasted longer, its effects were more serious. And still I could not determine any reason for it. This was no one-time occurrence, it has happened twice within a week now, and there is no guarantee that it won't happen again. With whatever outcome, I can't say. I've examined you as thoroughly as I've ever examined somebody, Severus has tested you for any kind of poison he could think of, Albus himself examined you yesterday evening. With no results. That worries me."  
"Albus? How long was I unconscious?"

"Since yesterday around noon. Now it's half past one."  
Remus let that information roll around in his mind. "I simply don't know, Poppy. Don't you think that I'd tell you if I had any idea what could be the cause of all this? I myself don't particularly fancy waking up with you hovering above me, either. No offence meant, of course."

That brought a small smile onto the nurse's face. "None taken. It's just frustrating. Remus, if those seizures occur as often as the last two ones, and if their effect on you gets worse and worse each time, then I just don't know for how long your body can stand this. Those seizures are taking a strong toll on you, your condition has worsened each time. And there is a full moon coming up in a few days."  
Remus sighed. "Don't you think I know that?"

"Then why don't you do anything against it?"

There was a challenging undertone in her voice, and Remus frowned his brows. "What do you mean?"

"That you don't take any care of yourself, despite the fact that you know that there's something wrong with you. Why have you given up?"

The question hit Remus like a slap in his face. At first he didn't know what to say, too stunned was he at the easiness with which Madam Pomfrey had interpreted his behaviour. But Remus didn't like to have others reading his inner feelings, so his reaction was the reaction he had always shown when confronted with such a situation - he closed up.

"This is a discussion I will not have with you, Poppy."

The nurse raised an eyebrow at Remus, but after a moment she nodded at him and turned around.

"I'll bring you something to eat in a moment."

"Where is Harry?", Remus asked, remembering that the teenager had been gone since the nurse had arrived at his beside.

"I sent him down into the kitchens for some food. Mr. Potter has been sitting at your bedside with hardly an interruption since I brought you here, so I thought it good to have him eat something before he, too, collapsed."

"Thank you."

"It's all right, Remus. I'm sure he'll be up shortly, hopefully also with some food for you."

With that, she vanished behind the curtains again, leaving Remus alone with his contemplations. So it had happened again. Remus really appreciated the nurse's worry, but he couldn't deal well with people who were trying to tell him what was best for him. He had always decided that for himself, anything else didn't work. But at the moment he was far more worried about the reason for his collapse. Of course, he had indeed not rested well since his last seizure, and neither had he eaten overly much. Then there had been the headache that had begun in the library yesterday, shortly before he had collapsed. All right, all that were probably signs of his seizures, but still didn't tell him anything about the reason for those collapses. He was not ill as far as he knew, and though full moon was only a few days away, his lycanthropy had never affected him like that. Somehow, he didn't think it likely that it'd start now. But if it wasn't that, then what was the reason?

He was torn out of his musings by steps that were approaching his bed. A moment later, Harry came around the curtains, a tray with food in his hands. He handed the food to Remus and sat down on the chair he had been sitting on earlier.

"Thank you, Harry", Remus said and picked up his fork.

"You're welcome. How are you feeling?"

Remus shrugged and took a bite before answering. "Better than when I woke up. A bit queasy still, but that'll pass."

Harry nodded solemnly and watched Remus as he ate. "I don't know what happened", he finally said. "You just collapsed, from one moment to the next. Just like the last time, at Grimmauld Place."

Remus nodded. "I know, it must have looked scary. But I just don't know why it happened, or why it happened again."

"Madam Pomfrey still doesn't know what's wrong?"

Remus swallowed his bite of chicken and ham pie and shook his head. "No, she has no idea."

"Not a very comforting thought."

Remus laughed mirthlessly. "No, it isn't. I'll talk to Albus as soon as I get the chance, maybe he will know something."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Harry's voice was slightly shaky, as if he was not really daring to pose that question. Remus smiled warmly at him.

"Nothing I can think of at the moment, no. Madam Pomfrey told me that you were here for nearly the entire time after I collapsed. You needn't have done that, but thank you."

"I…I was worried", Harry admitted lowly. "I don't know, but I was worried. I had hoped it wouldn't happen again, you know?"

"Yes, I know. I had hoped so, too. But please don't worry yourself overly much about it. It has happened, and now it's just wait and see how to best deal with it. But there _is _a way to deal with it, and there's an explanation for this mystery. It's only a question of time until we find it, so please don't work yourself up about it."

Harry nodded reluctantly. "All right."  
"How did your Occlumency lesson yesterday go?"

Harry shrugged again. "Not so good. I wasn't really focussed, so it didn't go all that well. Worst were Professor Snape's remarks, though. You know how he is."

Remus nodded. "Yes, I know how it is. Don't take him to heart. Listen to what he says about Occlumency, though, he knows what he does as far as the subject is concerned. But you know that he has a hard time holding back his remarks. Just take it as a part of him and don't think overly much about it."

"I'm trying not to. As long as he doesn't cross certain lines, then it's all right."

Remus nodded thoughtfully. He knew exactly what lines Harry was talking about, and he also knew that his former classmate had a knack for crossing those lines. Lines he was perfectly aware of. But Severus Snape liked to provoke, he liked to coax reactions out of the people he was confronted with, reactions of which the others were not entirely in control. To a certain degree it was a method, Remus knew that. By provoking Harry, by prodding at his weak emotional points, he hoped to cause Harry to react unguarded, purely emotional. It was not that bad a method to teach Occlumency, as far as Remus could tell with his limited knowledge on the subject. Snape could tell Harry over and over again that his raw emotions were his weak point, that undealt hurts and fears, and also his love for the people he cared for, were the things Voldemort would only too gladly use against him if he had the chance. But words were one thing, and even if Harry was willing to believe everything Snape told him, their effect was not as strong as the effect of a demonstration of how those things affected him if provoked unprepared. That was what Snape was trying to do with Harry. But Harry was a teenager who had always had problems in dealing with his emotions, and no small wonder after everything he had been through in his life. He of course reacted to what Snape did to him, but if he reacted just the way Snape wanted him was another point entirely. Chances were that he'd react just with the opposite of what Snape expected, but solely for reasons of defiance and stubbornness. Harry didn't like it when people penetrated his inner core uninvited. And there were very few people he had allowed an insight into his innermost feelings in his life before. Severus Snape was not one of them, that was why Harry was struggling so hard with his Occlumency lessons. As soon as he was out of here, Remus would talk to Snape again. Though he had to be careful about how he put it. The moment Snape thought he was criticizing his methods, he'd block out every attempt to talk to him. Well, Remus thought with a mental sigh, he'd just have to burn that bridge when he came to it.

At the moment, he was torn out of his musings by another set of steps that approached his bed. Harry turned around, slightly startled at their unexpected visitor, but Remus could already tell without seeing who it was. And truly, only a moment later the curtain around his bed was drawn back a little and Albus Dumbledore stepped up beside the bed.

"Albus, hello."

"Hello Remus, Harry", the headmaster said and nodded at the two. "How are you feeling this afternoon?"

Remus shrugged. "All right. A bit confused because I collapsed again and still don't have an explanation for it. It's nagging at me, if I'm honest."

Dumbledore nodded and leaned a hand against the footboard of the bed.

"I can understand that only too well. Now, I don't know if she told you, but after she had examined you yesterday she called me at headquarters. I came over as soon as I could. I don't see it often that Poppy is at her wit's end. But yesterday she was."

Remus nodded slowly. "Yes, she told me that you were here and examined me."

"That I did."

"And what did you find?"

Dumbledore sighed and shifted on his feet.

"Nothing."

Remus nodded, somewhat defeatedly, as Harry noticed, but he managed to wipe that emotion from his face rather quickly.

"All right. That also means that you have no idea how to treat it, so that it won't happen again."

It was a statement, not a question, but still Dumbledore shook his head.

"I might not have any plan of how to deal with what's happening to you - as of yet. But I've spent some thought on what the possible reason could be."

"And what have you come up with?"

Dumbledore sighed and looked at Harry.

"Harry, maybe it would be better if you waited outside for a moment."

Before Harry could even open his mouth to protest against being sent away - again - while the adults talked about what had happened, a hand on his arm stopped him. Looking up he found that though Remus was still leaning weakly against his pillows, he held him back and was looking firmly at the headmaster.

"No Albus. I think it's better if he stays here."

Dumbledore looked doubtful, but Remus didn't relent. For the first time Harry realized that even despite his physical condition his former teacher was an extremely strong and strong-willed man, and somehow he knew that after everything that had happened during the past months, the time in which Remus Lupin was following each of Dumbledore's words without the shadow of a doubt were over. Remus had told Harry a while ago that the blame for Sirius' death was not to be searched in one person alone. And he was right with that, this understanding had dawned on him over the past weeks. But just as Harry could not forget Dumbledore's words about his godfather at the end of his last school year, he had the feeling that Remus was also not forgiving him for what had happened with Sirius during the past year of his life.

Finally, Dumbledore nodded.

"It's your choice, Remus."

The old wizard pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of Remus' bed.

"How are you feeling? Aside from your confusion about what happened, I mean."

Remus shrugged.

"Drained, that describes it pretty well. I got a throbbing headache and feel pretty weak. And I can't keep from brooding about what is happening with me."

Dumbledore nodded.

"There isn't much we know about what is happening with you. Actually, we know a lot more about what is _not_ wrong with you. There is no physical reason for your seizures, no trace of poisoning, and no magical origins I could detect."

Remus frowned. "What magical origins?"  
"I was thinking about spells and curses, but no trace of any kind of magic other than your own showed during my examination. It didn't surprise me, actually, because nothing of that sort was to be found the last time you collapsed."

"So what you're saying is that I get those seizures even though there is no reason for it at all."  
"No physical reason and no outer influence, yes." Dumbledore nodded. "There is a reason for your seizures, I'm sure of that. But whatever the reason, I think we have to search it within you."

Remus frowned and leaned back a bit tiredly. Harry watched him with a slightly concerned expression, but didn't say anything. Remus seemed to collect some strength before he spoke again.

"What do you mean, Albus?"

"I have been thinking about it, Remus, and I was asking myself what could possibly cause such a sudden loss of strength and energy if there is no physical reason. The problem is that the number of possible explanations I could come up with is extremely limited."

Remus chuckled mirthlessly.

"At least you seem to have an idea. What is it?"

Again Dumbledore's eyes darted over to where Harry sat and back again, but he didn't say anything to the teenager.

"Remus, are you bonded to somebody?"

Remus' eyes narrowed a little. "Bonded?"  
Dumbledore nodded.  
"Yes, bonded. Certain bonds between two people can develop into strong magical connections. If you are somehow bonded to somebody and that person draws from your strength for some reason it would be the explanation we are searching for."

"What kind of bond are we talking about, Albus? I really don't think that I have such a connection with anybody."  
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and eyed Remus attentively.

"Mating bonds, blood-oaths, strong emotional connections to blood relatives, anything like that."

Remus only shook his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Sorry Albus, but I don't think that's the explanation. I most definitely don't have a mating bond with anybody, and I would not remember any occasion on which I could have closed a blood-oath. I really don't think that anything like this is the case."

But Dumbledore didn't give in that easily.

"What about your family?"

Remus shrugged. "You know that as well as I do. There are some distant relatives with whom I never had much contact. Of course there is my father and I love him dearly, but I don't think that our connection is that much closer than a good father-son relationship should be. Then there is my brother, and we're not exactly what you would call close. Besides, I would know if anything was wrong with either of them, I doubt that anything like that is the case."

Silence settled over the room for some endlessly stretched minutes. Remus was looking tired and his eyes were threatening to fall close soon. Eventually, Dumbledore got up from his chair.

"It was an idea, and please think about it a bit more. Maybe you'll think of something. I'll leave you to get some rest now, Remus. Just one more question."

Remus nodded and forced his eyes to stay open for a moment longer. "What?"

"I know that you had trouble sleeping as of late. But obviously you did sleep at times, though nowhere near enough. My question is whether you had any dreams lately."

Harry thought it was a strange question, but if Remus thought so as well then he didn't show it. A small vertical crease showed on his forehead, though, and it took a moment until he answered.

"I do dream, of course."

It was a careful way of answering the question, and if that was obvious to Harry, then it was surely more than obvious to Dumbledore as well.

"Any strange dreams?"

Remus cocked his head to the side. "Define _strange_, please."

"Nightmares, dreams that occur on a regular basis, dreams that don't feel right, as if they were not your own. Anything out of the ordinary, actually."

Again, Remus thought for a long moment before he answered, as if he was carefully weighing the content of every word he intended to use.

"What would be if I had, Albus? I saw my best friend die, of course I have nightmares about it. And of course I have those nightmares more than once. And that is what they are. Nightmares. Grief. Nothing more. It's bad enough that way, but I can't deal with interpreting anything more into it unnecessarily."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and tapped them against his chin. Harry didn't like it how Remus reacted to Dumbledore's questions. He had grown even paler during the past minute or two, and his left hand was unconsciously curling and uncurling where it lay on top of the blanket. But thought Dumbledore had to realize this as well, he posed his next question.

"You dream about Sirius regularly?"  
"I dream about his _death_", Remus snapped back a bit sharply. "Regularly. But whatever you want to suggest it to mean, leave it be, Albus. Sirius is dead, it's hard, but I have to learn to deal with it. Please leave it be at that, I can't stand that now."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sorry, Remus. I didn't mean to offend you in any way. But please think about what I told you earlier. Maybe you think of something that could explain this mystery to us. And get some rest."

Remus nodded. "I will. Oh, and before I forget it, the letter you gave me to translate is in my bag in the Gryffindor common room. I couldn't translate it all, but I'm fairly sure that it's nothing which interests the Order."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you. I'll take a look at it later. For now, get some rest. I'll drop by later this evening. Goodbye Remus, Harry."

Both Remus and Harry mumbled their goodbyes, and the old wizard got up and left the infirmary. Harry remained sitting next to Remus for a few moments longer, but it was obvious that Remus was tired and needed sleep. Harry got up from his chair.

"Professor Dumbledore is right, you look as if you could use some rest."

"Yes, I guess I could do with some sleep."

"I'll come back later as well, if that's all right with you."

Remus smiled reassuringly at Harry. "Of course it's all right. Thank you, Harry."

Harry smiled back and vanished behind the curtain, the closing of the infirmary door a few moments later announcing his departure. Remus lay back on the bed, finally alone with his thoughts and contemplations. And with the fear of having another of those nightmares if he gave in now and allowed himself to sleep. But he'd probably not have much choice about that matter, he thought with a wry grin. He was thoroughly exhausted, so he'd just risk falling asleep now. He'd deal with the nightmares once they came back. Because come back they would.


	21. A Feeble Hope

**Chapter 21 - A Feeble Hope**

Remus left the infirmary the same evening already. Of course Madam Pomfrey protested vehemently against it, but Remus insisted that he couldn't remain lying there for as long as she would like him to - which would probably amount to a week at least. His main argument was that he would stay within the castle, anyway, within quick reach of the Hogwarts nurse should he be in need of her service. And in the end, she reluctantly agreed, though she kept on mumbling about ungrateful patients as Remus left the room. He didn't take it overly serious, though, he knew the nurse very well by now. She was not really angry at him, but saw it as a affront to her professional pride that he wanted to leave before she declared him completely healed.

Remus returned to his room in Gryffindor tower, but found that he could not just remain lying there for the entire day. So he returned to the library. If Dumbledore had found anything else he deemed worth being worked through by Remus, he'd surely have deposited it there. Not that Dumbledore would agree to having him work again so soon after his collapse, but Remus desperately needed a distraction. He didn't know if it had been the conversation with Dumbledore, the thoughts about Sirius and his nightmares this conversation had caused, or simply because they returned anyway, but he had barely slept last night. The nightmares had returned with a vengeance. Or rather, the nightmare had returned, because it was still the same nightmare that was haunting him. He dreamt again and again of the night when Sirius had nearly died during the first war, the night when he had desperately tried to keep his friend alive until help arrived. And after he had woken, he had not been able to stop the brooding that always followed the nightmares. His lacking night's rest might have been another reason why Madam Pomfrey had been so reluctant to let him leave the infirmary, but there was nothing she could have done against him leaving once he had set his mind to it.

He was still feeling slightly wobbly on his feet, Remus had to admit that. And he still had a headache, that was also true. But if he was a bit careful, that should not really worry him any further.

As he stepped into the infirmary, he found the drawer in Madam Pince's desk in which Dumbledore had deposited the previous letter for him empty. So either the headmaster had nothing for him to work on at the moment, or he'd deliver it personally later on. Well, as he was here already, he could as well see what Harry was up to. If he was in the library, that was.

As Remus went into the next room, he found his suspicion confirmed. Harry was sitting at one of the tables, some parchments spread around himself, his head leaned on his hand and his eyes dropping close. Remus smiled. He had imagined that Harry didn't find his homework particularly interesting, but he had not thought that it was this bad. He watched the teenager for another moment, then he stepped closer and sat down opposite of him.

"Can I help you with anything?"

Harry's eyes snapped open instantly and he straightened up in his chair, staring wildly around the room as he tried to find out where he was. Remus smiled at him and waited patiently until Harry had caught up with the situation and was looking at him.

"Had a nice nap?"

Harry blushed slightly and wiped his eyes.

"Well, I have to admit that the Transfiguration essay was not exactly all that captivating. I must have drifted off. But should you be up yet?"

"I've been able to convince Madam Pomfrey to let me go, if that's what you mean. Though she let me go only reluctantly. But I feel fine enough, and lying in the infirmary all day was not part of my plan. To come back to my initial question, can I help you with that essay?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm supposed to be writing two rolls of parchment on Vanishing Spells, and I'm nearly finished. I think so, at least. Maybe you could read it, there are a few passages I'm not so sure about."

"Sure", Remus answered and reached for the parchments with a slight grimace. "I've always proof-read your father's or Sirius' essays. They were very good students, but sometimes especially Sirius had a way of writing essays…you just couldn't hand them in. In one essay for Professor Binns Sirius actually wrote that the trolls _didn't give a rat's ass _about goblin rights in the sixteenth century, and he had the nerve to ask me what in Merlin's name was wrong with that sentence." Remus chuckled at the memory, but then quickly schooled his face into an impassive mask again. Harry thought he understood. Thinking about his godfather, even about the happy memories, always led to thinking about his death, and that always hurt. So he understood that Remus quickly focussed all his attention on the parchments in his hands. He spread them out on the desk in front of him and patted the pockets of his robes for his reading glasses. Once he had found them, he put them on his nose and started to read the text. Harry was watching him, trying to discern Remus' opinion of his essay from the expression on his face. But after a minute or two, Harry's attention was distracted. He had not been aware of it before, but now that he saw it, he knew that Remus had been doing this constantly during the past weeks. Was doing it again right now.

Absent-mindly, Remus was tracing the thin scar on the back of his hand again, a habit he had developed only lately as Harry thought. At least he could not remember that Remus had done that while he had still be teaching, or on any other occasion when he had seen his former teacher afterwards. But since this summer, he had seen him do it more than just occasionally. After a moment, Remus seemingly noticed that he was being closely scrutinized. He looked up, followed Harry's gaze and with a smile lowered his hands onto the tabletop again.

"Is anything wrong?"

Remus quickly shook his head.

"No, nothing's wrong. It's just an old scar, and lately it started itching. I don't know why, I don't even realize I'm scratching it anymore."

Harry looked at the thin silvery line that ran across the back of Remus' right hand. The skin around it was reddened from the rubbing, making the scar tissue stand out even more.

"Where does it come from?"

"The scar?"  
Harry nodded. A sad look settled over Remus' features, but as Harry started to apologize for even asking he waved him off.

"No, it's all right. I…I told you about that night when Sirius and I got ambushed by Death Eaters?"

Harry nodded. "During the first war, yes. Why?"

Remus shrugged.

"I got hit with a cutting spell shortly before that Death Eater stabbed Sirius. But my wounds were nowhere near as bad as Sirius'. I had wounds on my upper arm and shoulder as well, but only the one on my hand scarred over later no matter what the doctors did. They simply could not erase it."

_"He still has that scar, it strangely didn't vanish, no matter how much the doctors tried to erase it."_

Harry didn't know why Remus' words from the day in the muggle hospital came to his mind, but suddenly he had the urgent feeling that there was an important meaning to Remus' scar. His heartbeat quickened as Harry thought back to what Dumbledore had said in the hospital wing. Could it be possible…could it be true?

"So you say you were bleeding while you were trying to help Sirius?"  
Remus slowly nodded. "Yes. My hand was bleeding quite a bit while I was trying to restrict Sirius' bleeding that night…" His voice trailed off and he looked at Harry with wide eyes, obviously having the same sudden thought that Harry had. For a glorious moment Harry allowed himself to hope that he might be right with his assumption. But after a moment Remus shook his head defeatedly.

"No, no it can't be."  
"But Professor Dumbledore said something about blood-oaths in the hospital wing!"

Again Remus shook his head and the raw pain Harry saw in his eyes shook him to the core. Remus didn't dare to give in to this hope, and already Harry felt a bit guilty for bringing it up. But he simply had to understand.

"Yes, he did. But Harry, a blood-oath is something completely different than a mere exchange of blood. It's not like in muggle movies that you just cut yourself, exchange blood and then live happily ever after as blood-brothers. A blood-oath is a commitment, a strong emotional bond between two people. It doesn't just simply happen like that, not accidentally."

Remus shook his head and his eyes became distant.

"Besides, that would not explain anything either. Even if there was a blood-connection between Sirius and me, he could not be the cause for my seizures, either. Sirius is dead, he cannot be the one drawing from my strength. It just cannot be."

Remus saw the disappointment in Harry's eyes and wished there was something he could do for the teenager. Yet something about what Harry had said had struck a chord in him. Maybe, just maybe…but no. No, it simply could not be. He could not allow himself to cling to that hope, he could not. He had not come to terms with Sirius' death yet, if he clung to that hope and it failed, it would smash him irreversibly.

Sirius had fallen through the archway, Sirius was dead. There had to be another explanation.

"Remus, can I ask you something?"

Quickly pulling himself out of his thoughts, Remus nodded.

"Sure."

"When…when Sirius fell through that archway, you immediately said he was dead. What…I mean, _how _did you know? Why were you so sure about it?"

Remus leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in front of his chest. He thought for a long moment before he answered.

"Because it's impossible to fall through that archway and survive. It's because of what that thing actually is."

Remus tried to think of everything he knew about the archway to explain Harry why there was no hope that Sirius had survived falling through it, but he just could not focus his thoughts. If he was honest with himself, he didn't really know all that much about blood-magic in general and blood-oaths in particular, so how could he be so sure that whatever was happening to him was _not _connected to Sirius? He simply could not give Harry an explanation without being sure about it himself first.

He looked up at Harry, a sudden determination in his eyes, a spark which Harry had not seen in the past couple of weeks.

"I promise I will tell you exactly how that archway works Harry, but first I need to make sure I am not wrong. Come with me, Harry."

He pulled Harry to his feet and out of the room into the corridor.

"Where are we going?"

Not turning around or slowing down Remus answered. "To the only person who can maybe shed some light on this whole affair."

He didn't need to say that they were going to Dumbledore, Harry could already guess as much. A year ago the thought of asking Albus Dumbledore for help would have given Harry a reassuring feeling, but right now he didn't think he was all that comfortable with the idea. He had avoided his headmaster ever since Sirius had died, as much because of what Dumbledore had said about Sirius as because he had realized that the wise old wizard was not infallible. But still he allowed Remus to drag him through the empty hallways, up the staircases and finally towards the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Remus literally barked the password at it and the two of them climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office as fast as possible, not waiting for the moving staircase to take them up.

Impatiently, Remus knocked on the wooden door and flung it open as soon as the voice from inside told them to come in.

Dumbledore got up from behind his desk and went over to greet the two newcomers.

"Remus, Harry, what gives me the honour of your visit? Take a seat, please."

Remus sat down on one of the chairs and Harry bonelessly sank down beside him. Remus tried to catch his breath and search for the right words to ask his mentor the one question he dreaded to hear answered.

"Albus, I know this must sound absolutely crazy right now, but I want you to listen to me and tell me what you think about it, all right? Because I'm afraid I might be going mad, but I just need to know."

Dumbledore nodded, a frown creasing his forehead.

"Of course, just go ahead."

Remus stretched out his hand, palm down, and pointed at his scar.

"You remember when I got this? That night, during the first war, when Sirius and I were trying to find that Death Eater hideout in London that might have led us to the Lestranges? When Sirius got stabbed by the Death Eater and I tried to keep him alive until help arrived, what was it - fifteen years ago?"

Dumbledore frowned, thinking back in an attempt to remember, then he nodded. "Yes, I do."

"The doctors said back then that I supported Sirius with my own strength because he'd have died otherwise."

Again, Dumbledore nodded.

"I had not thought about it before, actually Harry came up with the idea, but the more I think about it the more reasonable it sounds. You had been asking about blood-oaths this afternoon, and this is the only thing I can think of that comes close to such a bond."

Dumbledore took Remus' hand in his own and examined the back of it carefully.

"You were wounded as well, I remember. Why didn't the doctors erase that scar when they treated you?"

Remus bit his lip, trying to fight down his excitement. Not now, he could not know if he was thinking along the right lines.

"They tried to, but different from my other wounds that scar stayed, no matter what they tried to do."

He paused for a moment before he added, carefully as if he didn't dare to speak it out loud.

"The same happened with Sirius' wound. A scar remained which the doctors could not erase."

Not letting go off Remus' hand, Dumbledore looked at the scar that ran across the back of it and thought for a long moment. When he finally let go off Remus' hand and spoke, his voice was heavy and weary.  
"Blood-magic is a very resourceful but uncontrollable branch of magic. Its strongest property is providing a basis for incredibly strong protective magic. But of course you know that Remus, and I'd dare say that you Harry know as well that this was the reason why it was important to let you live with your relatives for as long as it was possible."

Harry nodded, though he didn't particularly want to talk about this right now. But Dumbledore seemingly didn't want to discuss Harry's living arrangements.

"But as I said, it's an incredibly uncontrollable branch of magic. Some blood-magic is banned from usage due to the destructive power it enables, and what of this magic is possible to use is very hard to control. Blood-oaths don't just happen like that, Remus."

"I know that Albus. But maybe it worked exactly _because_ we were not actively trying to close such a connection. Think about it, Albus. I wasn't even aware that I was bleeding at the time, all I could think of was how I could manage to keep Sirius alive. But I can't stop asking myself - if it was possible for me to support Sirius with my own strength back then, isn't it also possible that the connection we had that night remained?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and thought about that. Harry had remained silent so far and still he was watching the two adults with extreme fascination. Dumbledore seemed to think very thoroughly before he spoke again.

"A blood-oath is an emotional commitment, it's one of the strongest magical bonds that exist. Surely either you or Sirius would have noticed its existence over the years, I simply cannot imagine it going unnoticed for so long."

This time it was Remus' turn to think very hard before he answered.

"I don't know, Albus. We always were close, and after that night Sirius and I only got closer, before we began to drift apart during the weeks before Voldemort's fall. And then, when…when I thought he was responsible for killing James, Lily and Peter there was such a strong hatred for him that I don't think I'd have recognized a connection with Sirius as such. I forced myself not to think about him at all for over a decade, and even if I did, I was certainly not looking for such a strong bond as the reason for the emotions that flared up again in those cases. Albus, I simply don't know it, but I need to be sure it's not a possibility before I let go off the thought. I _need _to know, Albus."

Harry had never heard Remus plead like that before, and again he felt a stab of guilt for bringing him into this position. The last thing he wanted was hurt Remus even further.

"We would need to have a closer look into the matter, Remus. From what I know, it could be possible that you and Sirius closed an emotional bond the moment you tried to save his life. It _could_ be possible. In theory. The both of you were bleeding, so there was the chance for an exchange of blood, and you were supporting his life with your own energy. But Remus, that still can't be the explanation we are searching for, not the explanation for your seizures. Sirius is dead, and with his death whatever bond might have existed between you perished."  
Remus held Dumbledore's gaze unwavering.

"And what if he isn't dead?"

Instead of immediately pushing that thought aside, Dumbledore seemed to give it some consideration. It took a seeming eternity before he spoke again.

"Even if so, I'm afraid that it isn't a cause of hope. Even if Sirius should somehow be still alive - or in a state where he can still draw from your strength - there is no possible way for us to get him back from behind the veil. Instead, if there is a bond between the two of you, I'd believe it to be a cause of worry, especially for you, Remus."

"Why?"

"If somebody - it doesn't even necessarily need to be Sirius - but if somebody from out of our reach draws from you, we need to sever the connection before it causes you a damage that can't be undone."

"Sever it?"

Harry jumped up from his chair and broke his former silence. He simply could not believe what he had just heard.

"Sever it?", he repeated, disbelief etched clearly on his face. "Are you mad? You want to tell me that Remus might have a connection to Sirius - that Sirius might _not_ be dead - and you want to cut off that connection and just let him die?"

"Sirius _is_ dead, Harry."

Dumbledore's voice was warm and gentle, but this infuriated Harry even more.

"No, if he is connected to Remus then he might be still alive!"  
"Whoever falls through this archway is dead, Harry. But even if we assume that he isn't, Harry, there is no way to bring him back. We need to cut off that connection before it costs Remus' life as well."

"How do you know that there is no way to bring Sirius back?"

It seemed to Harry that Dumbledore looked somewhat ruefully, but at the moment he didn't care. And neither did he care that his tone was anything but appropriate for talking to the old wizard. He had given up caring about those things weeks ago.

"Please sit down, Harry. I will try to explain it to you, but I'd rather have you sitting down while I do so, it could take a while."

Still fuming, Harry sat down in his chair and looked defiantly at Dumbledore. His headmaster better have some really good explanation for what he had just said, Harry didn't think he could stand it any longer to be left in the dark like this. Dumbledore should have finally learned not to keep everything from him.

"Do you know what that archway is, Harry? Where it comes from, what it does?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Remus wanted to tell me after we went to see you."

Dumbledore nodded and leaned back a bit in his chair. "What do you think it is, Harry? You have seen it, you have been close to the archway. What do you think it is and where it came from?"

Harry was confused by the question and not only a bit unnerved by the fact that Dumbledore seemed to turn this into a guessing game.

"It seemed very old. At first I thought it was merely a normal archway, somewhat strangely placed in that chamber, but nothing more than a place to pass through. At least I thought that until Sirius fell through it and did not come out on the other side." Harry's throat closed at the memory, but he swallowed against it and continued. "When I stood next to it, I thought I heard voices whispering behind the veil, but maybe I only imagined it."

Dumbledore nodded at him.

"You did not imagine those whispers, though it's unusual for somebody to hear anything from behind the veil. But then again, I should not be astonished that _you_ were able to hear something."

"What does that mean?"

"Do not forget who you are, Harry. Or rather, do not forget what you have already seen. The chamber is not called _Death Chamber_ without a reason. You have already realized that you were wrong in assuming that it is merely a 'normal' archway, though your description of it being 'a place to pass through' is not far from the truth. But you are also wrong in assuming that the archway is old. Yes, it has been in that chamber for quite some time even before you were born, but it is not as ancient as it might look like. Tell me, what do you know about Grindelwald?"

Strange as the question was, Harry did indeed not know very much about Grindelwald, nothing except from the obvious. He didn't like to look as if he had not learned his lessons at school in front of Dumbledore and Remus, but what could he say?

"Not very much. All I know is that he was a dark wizard and that you defeated him. Something like 1944, if I remember right."

"1945", Dumbledore corrected, "But I would not have expected you to know very much about him yet. If I'm not very much mistaken his story is on the 7th year's History of Magic curriculum. But if you really want to understand what that archway is and what it does, we need to go a bit into his life and story. Grindelwald was indeed a dark wizard as you pointed out, but the problem about it was that this wasn't obvious at first. On the contrary, he was a very popular politician in the early 1920s, a powerful wizard in whom many people trusted. He became Minister of Magic in 1929."

"Grindelwald was Minister of Magic?" Harry could not believe what he was just hearing. "How could that happen?"

Dumbledore spread his hands and shrugged. "As I said, his true intentions were not all that obvious. There are some who say that he manipulated the elections, though, but nobody could ever come forward with any proof. He could have certainly done it, he was powerful enough and had built up a certain influence in the Ministry over the years. But no matter how he did it, important is that he managed to become Minister of Magic.

And that was when things began to change rapidly. Grindelwald started to rule with an iron fist, only a small number of advisors even knew what he was intending with his policy, his plans for our world were completely opaque. The methods with which he tried to achieve his aims were getting more and more doubtful, as were his political goals. I won't go into details here because that has nothing to do with the archway, but you need to understand that by the time he was revealed for what he truly was, it was all too late. He had the country already in his hands. Political enemies of his simply vanished and never came back, whoever dared to oppose him did not only have to fear for his own life but also for the life of their loved ones. It were very insecure times, times that could be compared to Voldemort's reign. Grindelwald nearly tossed the whole of Europe into a violent and bloody war. He had so much political power that it took very long to defeat him. The reason why I tell you this is that Grindelwald was the one to build the archway in the Death Chamber."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared beneath his fringe. "He build that thing?"

Dumbledore nodded calmly. "Yes, he did. A truly powerful piece of magic, that was. Very powerful, and like most powerful things also very, very dangerous."

Harry's eyes strayed over to Remus and then back again as he realized that his former teacher would not interrupt Dumbledore's tale just yet. But Dumbledore was always a man for surprises, and his way to continue the conversation made no exception.

"Do you know what makes a ghost, Harry?"

That indeed took Harry aback for a moment.

"No. Well - not really. I talked a bit about it with Nearly Headless Nick when he explained to me why…", Harry had to swallow heavily against the lump that seemed to once more cut off his throat, "when he explained to me why Sirius would not become a ghost."

Harry felt a comfortable warmth on his back and as he turned around realized that Remus had put a hand on his back and was looking at him with a concerned gaze. Harry quickly tried to reassure him with a smile, but failed miserably. He turned back to Dumbledore, somewhat calmed by the fact that Remus let his hand remain where it was.

"Nick said that he had only become a ghost because he had been afraid to move on, something like that."

Dumbledore nodded. "And with that he is right, of course. Some wizards choose to leave their imprints in our world and not continue on into whatever lies beyond death. But what Nick told you is not everything there is to know about ghosts."

Harry frowned. "What else should there be?"

"Some souls, like Sir Nick, choose to stay behind, be it for fear like he told you or for some other reasons. But there are those who have no choice but to stay. Souls that are haunted, those who still have something to do here. Some are bound to our world by something that happened in the past. These are the souls that turn into ghosts and when they die their magic and energy remains in our world. That is what ghosts are made of. But they are rare. That Hogwarts seems filled with them shall not delude you, Harry. Only very few wizards who die do not pass on. Some because they choose to, and some because they have no choice but to stay here.

You said earlier that the archway seemed like 'a place to pass through', and I have to agree that this is quite a good description. You see, the room which was built around that archway is not called "Death Chamber" accidentally. When Grindelwald created that archway, he created a way to pass through into a void behind. Whoever falls through it physically dies, but the soul and magic get caught in the void behind. They get caught between the worlds and don't come to rest, just as if somebody forces them to become a ghost or a haunted soul."

Harry frowned, strangely fascinated by the tale and for the moment forgetting its connection to his own, harsh reality.

"But why should he do that? I mean, what is the use in building such an archway if that is its only purpose? If Grindelwald wanted to punish or torture his enemies, Cruciatus or the Killing Curse are far more effective, aren't they?"

Dumbledore nodded as if he had expected Harry to pose that question and was proud and content that he had indeed done it.

"Ah, that's where we come to the crucial point of it all. You surely have realized that the Death Chamber is built like an auditorium, haven't you? Rows of seats around the archway?"

Harry nodded.

"The archway was used to dispose of Grindelwald's political enemies. And whenever he did that, all his associates at the Ministry were forced to attend. Maybe you can imagine what kind of impression that left in them, what they felt when they were forced to watch what exactly would be the consequences for them if they started to act against him. It created fear, fear for their own lives as well as fear for the lives of their families and friends. Grindelwald didn't trust anybody, and if he only suspected somebody of working against him then it could very well be that those people found themselves watching how their brother, father or girlfriend was being thrown through that archway into certain death, a death which would not let their soul come to rest. Grindelwald was a dictator, his rule was based on the fear to oppose him, that's what made him so powerful.

And of course that archway also served another purpose. You have to see that the archway, like most other portals and doorways, works both ways. When Grindelwald used it to kill those who stood in his way, he fed their magic and energy into the void behind. And he could make use of that power, he could draw strength out of that archway. The strength of the wizards and witches he killed."

"So he could not only kill his enemies but also use their power for his own purpose?"

Dumbledore nodded again. "Exactly. Wizards and witches of all times have carried out similar things, have used various rites to draw strength from other wizards' and witches' souls and magical energy. The archway is merely an instrument for something that has been done for ages already. Did you notice the inscriptions on the archway?"

Harry frowned, trying to think back to his one and only visit to the Death Chamber. But as much as he tried to bring the image of the archway back into his mind, the only thing he really saw was Sirius being hit by Bellatrix' spell, falling through the archway as if in slow motion. He felt Remus' hand on his back move in small circles and realized that his breathing had become short and harsh. Quickly, he shook his head.  
"No, I don't. It looked old and tattered to me, I was wondering what still kept it upright."

"Yes, years of usage did that to it, but if you look closely at it you realize that there are inscriptions all over the stone. Those are the instructions for the rite that needs to be carried out to draw from the archway's power.

After Grindelwald was defeated in 1945 and the Ministry was reformed, the decision was made to guard the archway closely in the future so that it would not be misused again. It is no coincidence that the Department of Mysteries was built around the Death Chamber. Everybody who knew about the archway then was convinced that it needed to be guarded closely."

"Why?", Harry wondered aloud.

"As I said, the archway does not only work one way. Grindelwald could draw from it, but during the height of his reign far more people went through that archway than the void could contain. Something had to come back out of the energy that Grindelwald could not use. Harry, the archway is where the Dementors came from."

"What?" Surely he was not hearing right.

Dumbledore continued calmly. "During the late 1930s and early 1940s, so many people were thrown behind the veil that the void could not contain all the energy anymore. The logical consequence was that some of it had to come back out. But as I said, the archway is a very powerful and dangerous piece of magic, and something happened to the magical energy that was thrown behind it. It was not the same when it came out anymore, it had turned…dark, to put it in simple terms. And in the times when too much was placed into the void, it accumulated, it formed shapes of combined dark energy of haunted souls that emerged from behind the veil. Dementors. That is why Dementors suck all the positive feelings out of you, they absorb all the positive to compensate the darkness within them. Only that they can never compensate it. They suck out souls to absorb them, to try and compensate for their own soullessness."

"The souls the Dementors suck out…what - what happens to them?" Harry wasn't all that sure that he even wanted to know.

"The same that happens to those who fall through the archway. They get trapped in the void behind. That is why you thought you heard whispers coming out from the archway. Not every witch or wizard would be able to hear the voices, but those who know death are sometimes able to hear the souls from behind. I have to say that you are probably more perceptive for those things than other wizards would be.

Many Dementors emerged in the years of Grindelwald's reign who immediately offered their services to him. And years later to Voldemort. And though the Ministry thought until not so long ago that the Dementors were working on our side now, they did not want to risk any more of them coming through the archway. Voldemort has always been very interested in gaining access to the archway and its powers. How much time and effort it has cost him to gain access to the prophecy has shown that the Department of Mysteries is still well-enough guarded. He has not gained access to the archway yet, and we all better hope that he never will. If Voldemort could use the power that lies within that construction…it would be horrible for our world, Harry. All the Ministers after Grindelwald have sworn to stop the archway from being used. From all we know, it can't be destroyed, so all we can do is stop it from being used ever again. So far, we have been successful. Nobody has fallen through that archway for nearly fifty years."

"Nobody except from Sirius", Harry said. Remus' hand suddenly felt like an uncomfortable burden on his back, spreading a warmth over his shoulders which was becoming unbearable. He wanted to get out of this room now, needed to get into the fresh air. Dumbledore's office seemed all to hot and the air was stale, Harry had difficulties drawing breath.

Harry's godfather was dead and his soul was trapped somewhere between the worlds. Sirius was lost, that was the bottom line of what Dumbledore wanted to tell him. And Remus didn't make any move to say otherwise, either, which he would surely have had he seen any chance to bring Sirius back. Harry didn't even realize that he was shaking his head, but Dumbledore seemed to notice.

"Harry, of all the people who have gone through that archway, _nobody_ has ever come back. Those who fall through are dead, and from all that we know about it, it would not be wise to attempt to bring their souls back. Not that we know how to do that, either. I told you once before that there is no way to bring back the dead. And even if there was, nobody could be sure just what would come back from the void. I'm sorry Harry, but I think that even if Sirius is still bound to Remus, then it is rather a reason for concern about Remus than hope for Sirius. I'm sorry."

Harry was still shaking his head, but the air in the room seemed to become unbearable now. He was breathing hard and still had the feeling that he didn't get enough air. He needed to get out.

Quickly, Harry got up from his chair and stormed over towards the door, ripping it open and storming out of the office. Remus got up from his chair to go after him, but Dumbledore held him back.

"Leave him for a moment, Remus. He might need some time alone to get used to it, but he simply has to understand. It is painful, but sometimes pain like that is necessary to make us understand."


	22. Drastic Means

**Chapter 22 – Drastic Means**

The last thing Remus wanted was to see Harry hurt again, but at the moment there was no other chance. Remus knew that what Dumbledore had told them about the archway in the Death Chamber was true. Sirius had fallen through it, that meant Sirius was dead. Nobody had ever come back from behind the veil, and if there was no way to bring somebody back from there, then there was also no way to bring Sirius back. It was hard enough for Remus to accept, he knew that it would be even worse for Harry. The teenager missed his godfather far more than Remus had guessed over the past weeks. Remus would seek him out later, he would talk to him and see what he could do to make Harry feel better. If there was anything he could do at all. But for now he had the feeling that Dumbledore still had a thing or two he wanted to talk about.

"What do you suggest, Albus?"

Dumbledore looked at Remus and thought for a moment. "We would need to find out whether a bond between Sirius and you really exists. Only once we know that for sure we can think of what to do against its influence on you."

"Meaning?"

"There are ways to determine if two wizards are bound by such an extraordinary bond."

"And there are also ways to sever such a bond, if it really exists?"

Dumbledore looked at Remus, but didn't answer the question at first. Instead he got up from his chair and walked over to Fawkes' perch, stroking the phoenix absent-mindly. Fawkes was only a day or so before his burning day, but still Remus found a certain fascination in watching the magnificent bird.

"There are ways to sever such a bond", Dumbledore said at last. "There has to be a way to sever it, in case it really exists. But we're talking about rather drastic means here, so you will understand that I need to make sure the bond is really there before we start thinking about how to make it vanish."

Remus swallowed.

"Define _drastic_."

"Blood bonds - if that is what we are talking about here - exist for as long as both 'ends' of the bond are still alive, or in a state where the bond can be kept up."

Dumbledore didn't continue, but he didn't need to. Remus had understood.

"So if there is a blood bond between Sirius and me, and it still exists even though Sirius fell through the veil, then…"

"Then we'd have to kill you in order to sever it." Dumbledore smiled gently. "Or rather, we'd have to pretend to kill you in order to sever it. I'm sure Severus can produce something that could be of help, but I'm sure you'll understand now why I want to make sure that the bond exists first."

Remus thought it was a very far-fetched assumption that he'd drink a poison Severus Snape had brewed in the hope that the potions master would also provide the antidote for it, but that was something he would worry about when the time for it came. For now, there was another point that had him a little more worried.

"Then how do you suppose to find out if the bond really exists?"  
Dumbledore stopped stroking Fawkes and walked back towards his chair again.

"Legilimency."

Remus immediately shook his head. "There has to be another way."

"I'm afraid there isn't, Remus."

"I won't have anybody snooping around in my mind. No offence meant, but that is something I just won't have."

"It's the only way to find out", Dumbledore said, not in the least fazed by Remus' harsh tone. "If a bond of that kind exists between Sirius and you, then the answer is somewhere within you, within your mind. Legilimency is the only way to find out. Your repeated dreaming about Sirius, your worrying the scar that could not be erased, all that are hints, but there is only one way to have certainty. And that is to search for the answer in your mind. It's something you yourself are unable to do in a conscious state of mind, and we'll have to make sure if your repeated dreaming about Sirius means that your mind is trying to do so at night."

"And I won't have anybody do it. Albus, I know that you only want to help, but there is a certain border which I won't allow anybody to cross. I don't want to have anybody searching around in my mind. There are certain parts of myself which I won't allow to be revealed to anybody."

"Not even to me?"

Remus looked firmly into Dumbledore's eyes. "Maybe especially not to you, Albus. I won't agree to that suggestion, and I trust you enough to believe that you won't do it without my agreement. There has to be another way. Or we simply have to try and sever the bond without knowing for sure whether it exists. But not like that."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Remus, you know that I would not suggest something like that if I knew of another way to deal with what you're going through. But before I will allow you to take some kind of poison in order to betray your body into thinking that you're dead, I will make sure that there is indeed a bond we're trying to sever. I know that you're aware of the severity of what we're talking about just as well as I am. I don't suggest this to spite you, or to make your innermost thoughts public knowledge. I suggest this because it's the only possible chance I see of determining what is wrong with you. Legilimency isn't something the one it's performed on enjoys, naturally, but it's the only chance I see."

Remus stared at Dumbledore for a long moment, then he got up from his chair and restlessly began to pace up and down in front of the desk. Worst about the situation was that he knew that Albus was right. It didn't help him any, because if there was one thing he didn't want, then it was the thought of somebody snooping around in his mind. He had taken too many years to perfect the art of keeping his innermost thoughts and feelings to himself, he didn't know if he was ready to allow somebody to break his defences now. It was necessary, that realization had already set in, now the big question was whom Remus was willing to allow breaking his defences. The answer was scaringly easy to find.

"If Severus agrees to performing it, then my answer is yes."

Dumbledore nodded without further comment. Either he guessed Remus' reason for the decision or he merely accepted it without asking for further explanation.

"I will talk to him about it."

"Thank you."

Remus' voice was flat, he wasn't really thankful for the whole process Dumbledore was about to set in motion, but if there was one thing Remus had learned over the years, then it was accepting things when he was unable to change them.

There was nothing the two men still needed to talk about, so Remus courtly bade the headmaster goodbye and left the office. Like Harry, he had much he needed to think about.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Later that day, it was already near evening, Dumbledore left his office and walked down the staircases and corridors until he had reached the Potion master's office in the dungeons. He knew that talking to Severus would not become easy, that the younger man would not very likely agree to his suggestion, but he had to try. Dumbledore thought he understood the reasons for Remus' condition that it had to be Severus performing Legilimency on him, not Dumbledore himself. Remus' refusal to accept Legilimency as a possibility to discover what was wrong with him had not surprised Dumbledore in the least. It was not something people generally felt comfortable with, to have somebody taking a look around in one's mind, poking through thoughts and memories the other was trying to hide. And sometimes it was far easier to accept somebody who was not in any way emotionally close doing it than the other way around. Dumbledore knew that there was no friendship lost between Remus and Severus, yet he indeed understood Remus' reasons for asking for Severus. If the Potions master came across something Remus would rather have him not see, then Remus knew how he had to deal with it. It would be a lot more difficult if something like that were to stand between Remus and Dumbledore. Though the question of amicability between Remus and Severus was a difficult one to answer, the two men had managed to find a middle-ground upon which to move during the past years. They weren't famous for their exchange of pleasantries, yet Dumbledore understood that something Remus considered a secret he didn't want anybody to see would not stand in between those two men as it would stand between Remus and Dumbledore himself.

Finally, Dumbledore reached the door to Snape's workroom and stopped, breathing in deeply once more before he took his next step. He knocked, and as Snape's court voice bade him to enter he opened the door and stepped in. The Potions master was standing behind his worktable, filling the contents of a cauldron into small flasks which - as Dumbledore knew - would soon be brought up into the hospital wing by a house elf.

"Good afternoon, Severus. Refilling Poppy's stock as I see?"

Snape barely looked up to acknowledge the headmaster's presence, then he focussed on filling the last remaining bottles.

"Good afternoon, Albus. Obviously, Madam Pomfrey expects all the students to come back sick, otherwise I can't explain all the potions against flu and Dragonpox she asked me to brew."

He put a stopper on the last bottle, waved his wand at a quill which immediately began to write labels onto the bottles, and then he stepped from behind his workbench and looked up.

"What brings you here, Albus?"

"I need to ask you a favour."

Not the slightest frown appeared on Snape's face, but after years of acquaintance - and above that, close friendship - with the man, Dumbledore knew that his last sentence must have astonished him quite a bit. Snape leaned back against his worktable and crossed his ankles.

"And what would that be?"

"It concerns Remus." Seeing that now there was a definite frown showing on Snape's face, Dumbledore quickly raised a hand to stop any comment before he had finished speaking. "Please listen to me first. I've had a long conversation with him this morning, with surprising results. I am not entirely sure, but there might be an explanation for his seizures, but I need your help to find that out for sure."

Snape still frowned, but he nodded at the headmaster. "I'm listening."

"There is the possibility that his seizures and collapses are directly linked to Sirius. I can't say for sure, but there is the strong possibility that Sirius and Remus have closed a blood-bond years ago, and if that is true, then this connection is still holding up. But before I suggest him to take any means, however, I need to be sure that this is really the case."

Snape only raised an eyebrow, but as Dumbledore didn't offer any further explanation on his part, he shook his head.

"No. If I guess correctly what you're asking of me, then the answer is no."

"It's the only way to be sure, Severus. The answer is there, right in Remus' mind, only he has no access to it himself. You know how difficult it is to truly detect a blood commitment. It takes a great skill in Legilimency to find that out."

Snape shook his head. "Then why me? Why not you?"

Dumbledore sighed and folded his hands in his lap. He seemed uncomfortable answering that question, and that astounded Snape a bit. Normally, Albus Dumbledore was a man who spoke his mind plainly.

"That is the difficult part about what I am to ask you. Remus was hesitant to agree to it, for one. And I would not force this upon him without his consent. I would not break his trust like that."

Snape sneered. "And you'd rather have me break that trust than you. The only problem about this idea is that Lupin won't be pleased to find out that it happened upon your suggestion. _If_ it happens at all. And he will surely not think that I acted on my own volition."

"No, he won't assume that of you. And I would not have anything happen without Remus' consent, anyway. I have talked to him at length, and in the end he agreed with me that it needs to be done. He agreed to have it performed, and he explicitly asked that you are the one to do it, not me."

Snape snorted. "That is something I seriously doubt, Albus. In case you hadn't noticed, Lupin likes me just as little as I like him. If anything, he would surely entrust you to snoop around his mind, not me."

Dumbledore shook his head and stroke a hand through his beard.

"No, I think there you are mistaken. No matter how antagonistic the relationship between him and you might be, he respects you. He knows that you would only be searching for the bond, and that every other information you'd accidentally encounter would be safe with you."

Snape made an odd grunting sound in his throat. "The same would not apply to you?"

Dumbledore shrugged uncomfortably. "It would. But I'm worried that it would affect our relationship. You have an emotional distance towards him which I don't have, that is why I ask you to do it. That is why he wants _you_ to be the one to do it. For Remus' sake, and for mine."

Snape stared down at his shoes for some long moments, then he looked up.

"If Lupin really agrees, I will do it. Under no other condition. And rest assured that I'll make sure he agrees."

"I have no intention to lie to you about it, Severus. I will talk to Remus again, then the three of us can see to the details. Thank you, Severus."

Snape nodded as Dumbledore got up from his chair and left the room. As soon as the door closed behind the headmaster, Snape sank back in his chair and leaned his face into his hands. He would do what Dumbledore asked of him, he would do nearly any favour Dumbledore asked of him, but he was not happy about it. Not happy at all. _Emotional_ _distance_…of course he had an emotional distance towards Lupin! What a truly unnecessary thing to state. There were reasons why that emotional distance existed, and actually Snape didn't want to jeopardize it by digging himself through Lupin's mind. With a sigh, Snape picked up an unused quill from the desk and twirled it between his fingers. Be that as it may, he had given Dumbledore his word. He'd have to see what would come out of this now.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry was pacing up and down the path that would lead him around the lake, as if undecided whether he wanted to get away from the castle or not. He could not believe it. He simply couldn't believe it!

There might be a bond between Remus and Sirius, there might be a connection that could mean that Sirius was not really dead, and all Dumbledore and Remus could come up with was how they could possibly cut that connection off! Who did they think they were? They couldn't just decide that, on a whiff, as if it was nothing more than the decision to cut off someone's hair! If Sirius was really alive, then they needed to try everything to get him back, they needed to search for any possible way to bring Sirius back!

Who gave them the right to make that decision? If there was a link between Sirius and Remus, it was something precious. It was a _chance_, a starting point, didn't they see that? Who did they think they were, deciding to kill Sirius off for good?

Dumbledore and Remus could not do that, they simply could not! He could not let them.

That was it, Harry realized, and quickly turned around to hurry back into the castle. He could not let them. And that meant he had to find a way to stop them from killing Sirius. He had to find a way to bring his godfather back before Dumbledore and Remus had the chance to do something. It would not be easy, Harry knew that, but he was more than willing to try.

He had no idea how he would manage to find something not even Dumbledore knew about, but if there was a chance that he'd find the answer here at Hogwarts, then it would be in the library. He needed to find out everything about blood oaths he could, maybe there was something the two adults had not considered. Yes, that was it. And if there was a way to bring Sirius back, then he would find it, Harry vowed.

Fortunately, he didn't meet anybody on his way up the stairs into the library. The only good thing about the Hogwarts library during summer was the absence of Mrs. Pince, the librarian. Otherwise, the room was too warm, the air too stale, and no opening of a window could bring relief. Harry didn't know what made the difference at school-time, but outside the holidays it was always rather comfortable here. But right now, Harry found it hard to focus on anything. Nobody aside from him was in any of the several rooms of the library, and the silence was far more unnerving than the occasional cough, whispered conversation, turning of a page and closing of a book which was the constant background noise when other students were using the library.

But Mrs. Pince's absence was not the only good thing about the holidays, come to think about it. The other good thing about the holidays was that nobody saw the need to guard the restricted section of the library. Normally, that area was locked and Madam Pince had an eye on everybody who only came too close to that section, but during the holidays that was not the case. Not that Harry was actually searching for something in the Restricted Section, but maybe later he'd need to search there. He would not give up his hope that there was still a chance to bring Sirius back. He only needed to find it.

But where to start searching?

Harry fetched the quills an parchment he had left here yesterday after finishing his homework, and went to the wooden box which contained Madam Pince's filing system for the library. Normally, only Madam Pince used it, but Harry knew her system well enough to find what he was searching for. It wasn't complicated to use a thematically filed catalogue, after all. His fingers sorted through the single cards until he had reached the stack that referred to blood. He quickly excluded magical creatures and the use of their blood in potion brewing, and he also guessed that the large number of books on vampires would not help him much. He could not say if any of the remaining books would be of much help, but he wrote down their titles with the intention to check each and every one of them if necessary. The list grew longer than he had imagined it would, in the end he had twenty-nine books listed on his roll of parchment. With a sigh he put the box with Madam Pince's catalogue away and carried his list over towards the shelves. He'd try to rule out the ones which were not in the restricted section first, he didn't expect to find anything in them anyway.

Fifteen minutes later Harry had scratched out twenty-two books on the list simply by looking at their index and table of contents. Most of them dealt with Potion brewing or magical creatures like the ones he had excluded earlier, only that the book titles didn't betray that fact immediately. That left seven books from the restricted section.

Despite the fact that nobody was there to reprimand him, Harry still felt like he was doing something forbidden as he opened the small lattice that separated the restricted section from the corridor and stepped into the aisles between the bookshelves. Fortunately, this section was not locked during the summer holidays, so there was nothing there to stop him. It took him longer to find the books he was searching for, and was more careful in pulling them out. Harry had only been to the restricted section once before, but that night-time experience during his first year had taught him that the books here sometimes didn't behave like books at all. He pulled out the books and carried them over to a table. Then he sat down, carefully opened the first one and began to leaf through it.

Half an hour later, he still had not found out anything. One of the books was written in a language he didn't even know, another was written with a brownish looking ink which sent shivers down Harry's spine. It looked as if blood was not only the topic the book dealt with. Harry had two more books left, and his hopes that he'd eventually find something were fading quickly. Maybe Remus was right and there simply was no other way. With a sigh he got up from his chair and stretched his stiff legs a little. He walked up and down the room for a couple of times, thinking about what he would do if those last two books didn't reveal anything useful, either. He let his gaze stray along the shelves he passed and thought that he might have started this from the entirely wrong angle. Maybe he had started his from a too specific angle, maybe he needed to broaden the range of what he was looking into. With newly determined steps he walked into the next room and up to the large shelf that covered one entire wall in the room. He had not used the _Encyclopaedia Magica_ very often, but where to look for a general abstract on blood-oaths and maybe also for literature on the topic if not in there? Seventy-eight volumes of the _Encyclopaedia Magica_ were on the shelf, and Harry ran his fingers along the spines of the books until he found the volume that covered the right letters and pulled it out. A small cloud of dust flew into his face and Harry quickly turned his head and suppressed his urge to sneeze. The book was huge and heavy, so Harry carried it over towards his table and put it down. Putting the ink-jar aside he made space and opened the book, leafing through the pages until he found the entry for '_blood_'. His heart sank a bit, though, when he realized that the entire entry covered more than sixty pages. Well, he'd just have to work his way through it.

There was a general part about blood and its symbolic quality in wizarding history which Harry scanned, but not really read. It took him several minutes of reading to find what he was searching for.

_"Blood-magic is one of the most resourceful yet also most incalculable branches of magic known to the wizarding world. Various branches of blood-magic are known, roughly split into the use of human or animal blood for magical purposes on the one hand and blood-bonds on the other. Due to its both unpredictable and highly dangerous qualities, the practice of using blood in magical performances and potions brewing has been banned for the most part with the Humanitarian Decree of 1879._

_(1) Amongst the number of magical performances that require the need of human blood…"_

Harry shook his head and started to flip through the pages. What followed this entry was a detailed account of rites, performances and potions that required the use of human blood. From what Harry grasped by simply skimming the pages, the principal concept behind all them was power, immortality, invulnerability and the like. Harry had his own experience on that matter, experience which he didn't particularly like to think about because they still had the power to make him start shaking. He didn't know whether he wanted to know any further details, so he read on until he found the paragraph he was really interested in.

_"(2) Blood-bonds in all forms of their appearances are the strongest magical and emotional connections between wizards that are known to the magical world. Those connections are brought to life by two magical human beings who are not bound by family ties sharing a blood connection. Once such a blood-oath is closed between two wizards, it cannot be taken back again. The only way a blood-oath can be broken is the death of one of the involved wizards. There is no way to sever the connection other than death. While in existence, the influence of the blood-oath on the involved wizards…"_

Harry breathed in deeply and read through the paragraph again. Death. If death was the only way to sever a blood-oath, then it meant that Sirius was not really dead, didn't it? If the blood bond between him and Remus still existed - and nobody had denied that so far - then Sirius could not be dead. But that again meant that the only way to cut the connection between Sirius and Remus would be…he forced himself to breathe. That couldn't be what Dumbledore and Remus were planning, could it? The only chance to save Remus from dying couldn't be to kill him, where would be the sense in that?

During his first years at Hogwarts, Harry had learned to trust Albus Dumbledore implicitly, to never doubt that he always knew what he was doing. And though that trust and the absolute belief in Dumbledore had somewhat faltered over the past year, Harry didn't think that his headmaster truly considered killing Remus as a possibility to cut the blood-connection. Then he could as well let the blood-oath's expected effects simply run their course. Harry shook his head and read on, desperately trying to find something in the Encyclopaedia that would shed a different light on all this. But instead, the only effect was that fragmented sentences whirled around in his head and only increased his confusion.

"_…potential danger of a blood-bond lying in its ability to increase a wizard's own magical capacities…_"

"_…a close emotional connection is both condition and consequence of a willingly closed blood-bond…_"

"_Enforced blood connections (comp. Paragraph (1) for further details) hold different properties as willingly closed blood connections, as their intention is different…_"

"_…yet all blood connection have in common that they cannot be undone while both wizards involved are still alive…_"

"_…blood connections that served in an act of resurrection (comp. Paragraph (1) section III for further details) might have the consequence of a vital dependency between the wizards involved…_"

"_It is not uncommon to hear about a developing mental connection between wizards who share a blood-bond, yet it is no necessity…_"

"_…the closing of a blood bond can never be enforced except from the conditions laid out under paragraph (1)._"

Harry leaned back in his chair with a sigh and rubbed his temples to stave off the headache. This wasn't helping him any, he needed something that told him explicitly how a blood bond worked, and how it could help him to bring Sirius back. He could rule out the entire paragraph (1) in the entry, as this dealt with the use of blood in potions. Of course there were also blood bonds mentioned, but those were not the kind of bond Sirius and Remus had. But the second paragraph had not helped him more, either. Blood bonds held up for as long as both wizards involved were still alive. So far, so good. But nowhere it said how to bring one of those wizards back from a place where no other living being could go to bring him back. Drat.

Harry bent forward again and skimmed the remaining entry about blood bonds, but nowhere it said anything about bringing somebody back from…well, from wherever they went after they fell through the veil. Harry sighed and snapped the book close, causing a small cloud of dust to wave up into the rays of sunlight that fell through the window.

Well, another approach. Harry put the two other books back into the restricted section, put the volume of the _Encyclopaedia Magica_ back into its place and pulled out two other volumes. One that surely contain an entry on Grindelwald, the other that would tell him more about resurrection. Somewhere in between, he simply had to find something. He simply had to find something. If he only continued to search, he'd eventually find something. He just couldn't stop now.

The Grindelwald entry fortunately was not as long as the entry on blood had been, but still well beyond fifteen pages. Harry breathed in deeply and started to read, thinking that he could as well learn a bit from his seventh year curriculum already. It would give him the chance to skip History of Magic classes when Binns finally taught them about it, at the very least.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was none the wiser still. He had read the entire entry, but though of course Grindelwald's reign as Minister of Magic as well as the archway in the Death Chamber were mentioned, it didn't tell Harry anything about _where_ people who fell through the veil went to. But Harry was not yet ready to give up. He closed the volume with the 'G's and picked up the one where he hoped to find an entry on resurrection. He found one, though it only consisted of a few words. Those words, however, sent a small chill down Harry's back.

_"Resurrection, see __à__ Necromancy, paragraph (2)"_

Necromancy. Harry had heard of it before, if only vaguely. If he remembered correctly, it was the art of bringing back the dead. Harry didn't know any details about how it was performed, but he had the sudden image of hooded figures standing around a dug-out casket on a graveyard, murmuring spells and spilling the blood of a sacrificed animal. He shuddered. At least that had been his image of resurrection before the last summer. Now it was the image of hooded figures on a graveyard, standing around a cauldron, and instead of sacrificing an animal they were taking his own blood to resurrect Voldemort. Harry shuddered and had to get up from his chair. Only when he stood in front of the window and felt the sunlight shine onto his face did his chill subside slowly. He didn't like to think about that night, didn't like to think about Cedric's death or Voldemort's second rise. It was over, he could not change it anymore. He could only try his very best to stop Voldemort from hurting even more people like he had hurt him, and that he would do. It was the only thing he could do. But for that he needed help, he needed someone to rely on, somebody who would catch him if he fell. And that somebody was well beyond his reach right now, so Harry would have to bring him back.

Still on slightly wobbly legs, Harry walked back to the table and sat down again to read the entry.


	23. Another Strike

**Chapter 23 – Another Strike**

Harry was so wrapt up in his researches that he nearly forgot to go down into the dungeons at eight o'clock for his Occlumency lesson. Nearly. He managed to arrive there just in time, but he had run the entire distance from the library to Snape's office, and then Snape immediately cast the Legimency spell after he had closed the door behind himself. Entirely out of breath and without a moment to prepare himself for what was happening, Harry had no chance to defend himself against Snape's attack. It was not a pleasant Occlumency lesson at all. It got better after that horrible start, but not much. Harry was still too wrapt up in the researches he had conducted in the library.

But that was how he spent the next two days. In the mornings, he would head up to the library immediately after breakfast, bury himself behind a stack of books, searching for the answer to the question of how Sirius could be brought back. He'd have lunch with Remus, then head back up to the library again.

Life at Hogwarts was so isolated from the real world that Harry could pretend it didn't exist. There were moments when it wasn't all that hard to imagine that Voldemort was nothing but a fragment of imagination, nothing that threatened his friends and their families out there. Harry didn't receive the _Daily Prophet_, he relied on the fact that Remus or Dumbledore would tell him if something happened again. Until then, he worked hard to keep himself from having another dream like the one he had had hardly a week ago. Though he had still not found a way to clear his mind before he went to bed, Harry tried. He really did. Every night before he fell asleep, he put a conscious effort into thinking about the things that were occupying him, trying to deal with them well enough so that they would not haunt him at night. That had to be enough, he didn't have another way to do this yet. He had the feeling that he was progressing in his lessons. Though he still couldn't manage to keep Snape out of his mind entirely, or even to effectively push him back once Snape had penetrated his protective barriers, he had the feeling that it was getting harder and harder for Snape to enter his mind in the first place. It took longer, and it seemed to cost Snape more effort to manage. What convinced Harry most was the fact that though Snape still criticized him in every way he could, he no longer said that Harry wasn't putting an effort into his lessons. Of course, things still developed far too slowly for Snape's liking, and he told the teenager as much, but Harry had the feeling of progress. Not much, but still something.

On the day two days before full moon, Harry was surprised to find Remus sitting in the Gryffindor common room as he descended the stairs from his dormitory. Normally, Remus was up far earlier than he was and was already sitting at whatever he was working on by the time Harry got up. But this morning he was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, an untouched plate with breakfast in front of himself and the _Daily Prophet_ lying next to his teacup. A small leaden weight settled in Harry's stomach as he sat down in an armchair and pulled up the second plate with his own breakfast.

"Bad news?", he asked. Slowly, Remus nodded.

"I think you could say that, yes. There has been another attack."

Harry didn't feel particularly hungry anymore. His memories of the dream about what had happened to the Bransons were still very vivid, he didn't need any more of that. Not at all. Problem was, there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop those things from happening.

"What happened?", Harry asked and reached for the paper. Remus only shook his head.

"You won't find it in there, Harry. It happened in the early morning hours, it didn't make it into the morning paper."

Harry withdrew his hand and looked inquiringly at Remus. With a sigh, Remus began to speak.

"Albus told me about it first thing this morning. Obviously, it was Moody who informed him about it. Last night, another member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was killed."

"Who?"

Remus shook his head. "Aloysius Vandenberg. I doubt that you know him of have ever heard of him, but just like Sal Branson, he was an important and high-ranking member of the DMLE. One of their top Aurors, to be precise. Fortunately, he was neither married nor did he have children, so it was only him who was attacked, but it's still bad enough."

Harry frowned. He had indeed not heard of an Aloysius Vandenberg before, but that didn't necessarily have to mean something. What he couldn't quite grasp was that so little was actually happening. Upon seeing Remus' expression, Harry had been prepared to receive really bad news, news about a lot of dead people, maybe even people he knew.

"But what is the sense behind this?"

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Attacking people like that. I mean, a few days ago the Bransons, and now this Auror. Why so small attacks, now that Voldemort is back and everybody knows. I had thought he would do something bigger."

Remus finished his tea and leaned back in his chair. Harry noticed with some concern that he didn't seem to have eaten anything at all this morning, and he didn't really look as if he had gotten all that much sleep last night.

"Maybe he does it because everybody knows."

"What do you mean?"

"After the Minister declared over the press that Voldemort is back, everybody was only waiting for something to happen. Something big, the outbreak of a war. Anticipation is really hard to bear if nothing happens for a longer stretch of time. Everybody at the Ministry saw the attack on the Bransons as a starting point of such a big thing. There was a Dark Mark in the sky, and so far that only happened when the Death Eaters wanted to let people know who committed the crime. And then nothing happened for days. The Aurors were on double shifts, the guards around the important buildings were doubled or tripled, and simply nothing happened. I think Voldemort wanted exactly that."

Harry slowly shook his head. "But then what about last night?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know all that much about what happened last night. Albus said it isn't yet confirmed as a Death Eater attack, though from what he gathered from Moody it was exactly like it was with the Bransons, only that there was no Dark Mark in the sky. But it isn't officially confirmed, and without a Dark Mark it will probably never be declared a Death Eater attack."

"But it was one, wasn't it?"

Remus nodded. "That's what Moody said. On Albus' – let's say gentle prodding, I called up Janus earlier this morning. He was in charge of the Branson investigation. It took me a while to worm details out of him, but what he said was worrisome, to say the least."

Remus' face indicated clearly that this had not been one of the most pleasant conversations of his entire life, but Harry had learned quickly not to inquire about Remus' relationship with his brother. And now certainly was not the time.

"Janus said that last night's attack looked every bit like a Death Eater attack, or at least every bit like the attack on the Bransons. Quick entry, torture, killing, no traces to the perpetrators left behind. The only difference is the Dark Mark. That makes it two high-ranking members of the DMLE who were killed. Janus hinted that he had heard of similar things happening in France, but so far that's even less sure than everything we know about last night. Another fact is that a number of Ministry workers didn't show up for work today, unaccounted for until now."

"What does that mean?"

Remus shrugged. "It's too early to say for sure, but it seems as if they were set on taking out the important people in Law Enforcement one by one, slowly, well-planned, and at their own pace."

A shiver went down Harry's spine. "What? But why?"

Remus shrugged and refilled his teacup. "After two deaths it's far too early to speak about a scheme that can be recognized behind what's happening. But it's not been just anybody who was attacked, and neither were it any muggle-borns or mixed wizard-muggle families who were attacked. The only thing they have in common is that they were high up in the Law Enforcement of our administration." He nervously rubbed the scar on the back of his hand, then caught himself and forced his hands to fold still in his lap. "It's the government that sets the laws for a society, but it's the Law Enforcement that keeps them up within society. If you take out the important people, the ones who carry the responsibility and who organize and coordinate everything, chaos ensues. The more people you take out – the more chaos you cause – the more difficult it becomes to persecute the Death Eaters. And of course it evokes fear. The people see that the Ministry is powerless against the Death Eaters, and they lose their faith in the authorities. Chaos can be immensely helpful if you're intending to lead a war."

He sighed and got up from the sofa.

"A lot of what I told you is speculation, but it's what we think Voldemort is trying to achieve at the moment. We'll see what happens once the missing Ministry workers are accounted for."

Harry nodded slowly, listlessly picking around on his plate with breakfast.

"About what your brother said. If something like that happened in France, do you think it's safe for Hermione and Ginny?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't see any reason why not. What Janus talked about was even more unconfirmed than the little we know about last night's attack. And even if Voldemort is trying the same in France, so far it's not affecting the general public. I doubt that Hermione and Ginny are any less safe in France than they would be in England. Probably they're even safer."

"And until something else happens, we'll just have to sit around and wait, right?"

"Unfortunately. The Ministry is doing everything they can, the Aurors will be more careful, and the Order is desperately trying to find out what the Death Eaters' next move will be. As for us here at Hogwarts, there is indeed nothing we can do but wait, as horrible as that may be." He clapped his hands together and made a step towards the portrait hole.

"Right. The reason why I waited here actually was to tell you that Severus will be busy tonight. He told me to tell you that he rescheduled your lesson to ten o'clock this morning, meaning he expects you in his office in roughly twenty minutes."

Harry sighed loudly and grimaced. "Great."

Remus chuckled. "Just think about the evening you'll have off tonight. Right, I have to go and talk to Albus again, then I'll be in the library. I'll see you later, Harry."

"Yeah, until later", Harry said, his voice anything but enthusiastic about the change of his morning schedule.

Remus left the room, and Harry quickly stuffed some breakfast into himself before he set off towards the dungeons. Trust Snape to reschedule his lessons and send him notice about it at the last possible moment. Just bloody great. But Remus was right, at least that way he would have the evening off without another of those lessons looming over him. That thought cheered him at least a little bit as he climbed down the numerous staircases towards the dungeons. He was a few minutes early, but as he knocked on the office door, Snape bid him enter. As always, Snape was looming darkly behind his desk and glared at Harry as he entered.

"Mr. Potter, I see that Lupin found you. Well then, let us begin."

But as Snape pulled out his wand and Harry readied himself for the attack that was bound to follow, the flames in the fireplace suddenly flared up and Remus came rushing out of the fireplace. Snape immediately turned towards him, wand still in his hand, and for one short moment Harry thought that his professor would curse Remus for intruding. But Snape merely pocketed his wand again and glared at Remus.

"What, Lupin?"

"Sorry to come banging in here like that, Severus. Albus just left, and he asked me to give this, he said it was urgent and that he'll come back in the late afternoon to give you the details."

He pulled a sealed roll of parchment from the inner pocket of his robes and handed it to the other man. Snape grunted something and pulled the parchment out of Remus' hand, then deposited it onto his desk.

"Was there anything else, Lupin? I'm about to start Potter's lesson."

Remus didn't answer, and as the silence stretched for a few seconds too long, Harry turned and looked at him. He was startled to see that his former teacher had suddenly become very pale, and his hands, which were handing loosely at his sides, were shaking badly. Snape, too, noticed Remus' sudden distress and made a step forward from behind his desk.

"Lupin?"

"I'm all right", Remus all but panted. "Just…just a bit dizzy."

Harry thought that _just a bit dizzy_ looked less threatening than that, but just as he made a step forward and stretched out a hand, Remus suddenly doubled over. Eyes wide in horror, Harry watched as Remus' eyes unfocussed, as if he was staring at something only he could see. All the colour drained from his face and suddenly, without warning, his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. The last thing Harry saw were Remus' eyes rolling back in his head and his hands gripping for something to hold on to but meeting only thin air.

Harry might have been the seeker of the two other people in the room, but nevertheless Snape beat him with his reaction. While Harry was still staring in shock at the collapsing form of his former teacher, Snape rushed forward and managed to catch Remus before his head hit the floor. Nearly gently in his actions Snape lowered Remus to the ground and pried one of his closed eye-lids open with his fingers. Only the whites of Remus' eyes was visible and Harry saw a narrow line appear on the skin between Snape's eyes as he frowned.

From his place standing near Remus' feet, Harry helplessly had to watch how Remus' hands clenched and balled into tight fists in time with the cramps that were coursing through his body. He watched the scene as if he wasn't really there, saw Snape move behind Remus' head and hold it as still as he could while Harry himself couldn't think of anything to do except from kneeling down and taking one of Remus' tightly clenched fists into his own hand, listening to the ragged and wheezing breaths and praying that this seizure would be over soon.

Please not him as well!

Harry didn't know where that thought had come from, but it was true. Remus had always been more distant than Sirius, he had been more teacher than friend for a long time, but now with Sirius gone Harry suddenly realized that this man was the last living connection to his own parents' past. And he was the only adult left who still could become something like a fatherly friend. Remus could probably never take Sirius' role, he was too different from how Harry's godfather had been, but Harry realized that he cared for the man, cared very much indeed, and that he just wasn't ready to lose him as well.

But there was nothing he could do, Harry realized, nothing he could do to help Remus.

After what seemed like a small eternity, Harry felt the tension leave Remus' body and the hand which he still had clutched tightly in his own relaxed and lay limply between his palms. Remus' harsh breathing gradually evened out into lowly wheezing breaths, and eventually Harry dared to look up at Snape.

The worried line in the middle of his forehead had not disappeared and didn't disappear now as he reached towards Remus' neck to search for a pulse. Without looking up, he barked out his next commands at Harry.

"Fetch me the green bottle from the top shelf beneath the window, Potter."

Harry found himself obeying immediately, hurrying through the room to bring the demanded bottle. He didn't know what was inside, didn't recognize the name of the potion that was written on the label, but he trusted Snape enough to know that he would not poison Remus. When he came back he found that Snape had pulled Remus up into a sitting position, propped up against his chest, and was whispering harshly into his ear.

"Oh no, Lupin. Not while I'm around. That would be a great joke for you and your friends, wouldn't it? But I won't let you load your death on me, Lupin. Not today, hear me?"  
Without looking up he stretched his hand out and Harry placed the bottle into Snape's palm. Not bothering to thank Harry - which the teenager hadn't expected anyway - Snape unscrewed the small flask and poured the contents into Remus' mouth. Nothing happened.

"He doesn't swallow."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Mr. Potter."

Harry wondered how Snape could remain so…so cold and calm even now, with Remus being too weak to swallow the potions that were supposed to help him. Still not looking up from Remus' unmoving form which was leaning against him, Snape reached under Remus' chin and placed his fingers under his jaw, exerting pressure. After a short moment, Remus swallowed. Harry was flabbergasted.

"How…how did you do that?"

Snape was repeating the procedure with the remaining contents of the bottle without looking up at Harry.

"Interesting and useful trick", Harry thought Snape was grinning somewhat ruefully, "very useful to make people swallow potions, even if the don't want to or are in no state to do so."

He let that sentence hang in the room and after a moment Harry contemplated that he didn't really want to think about the possible implications of this statement. The little he knew about Snape's past before Hogwarts wasn't pretty, and right now he was too worried about Remus to waste his thoughts on his teacher's past.

"What about Remus?"

Snape shrugged and once more controlled Remus' pulse.

"I'm not a medi-wizard, Potter, and neither do I pretend to know enough about blood-oaths to understand what is happening to him. He is alive for now, if that was what you wanted to know. He ought to wake up again, but other than that I can't tell. As long as Black is caught behind that veil and draws from his strength it will happen again, and obviously it will get worse. When next, I don't know."  
"It's happening more frequently."

Snape only nodded, but didn't comment. Harry bit his lip. In his momentary relief that Remus' seizure was over, he had nearly forgotten that even thought he might be all right for the moment, this would continue until they had either found a way to bring Sirius back or until Remus would…would not wake up again after a seizure. They needed to do something, and fast.

Snape seemed to think more about the moment, because he looked up at Harry and nodded towards the fireplace.

"Go and get Madam Pomfrey, Potter."

Harry scrambled to his feet and walked over towards the fireplace, not really knowing how his legs were carrying him when they felt like they were made of rubber. A small pot with floo-powder was standing on the mantelpiece, and Harry quickly threw some into the flames and called out for the Hogwarts infirmary. It took maybe a minute, but then the woman's head appeared in the fireplace.

"Mr. Potter? What happened?"

"Remus collapsed again, in Professor Snape's office."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I'll be there in a moment."

Harry got up and slowly walked back to where Remus was lying. Now there was nothing they could do but wait – wait for Madam Pomfrey, and wait for Remus to wake up again.

Madam Pomfrey arrived not half a minute after the floo connection had closed. She put her bag down on the floor and knelt down next to Remus' prone form.

"What happened, Professor Snape?"

Snape got up and shrugged. "He collapsed again."

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Remus in a first examination, but then her eyes fell on the empty bottle that was lying next to Remus' shoulder, and she picked it up.

"Is this what I think it is?"

Snape nodded. "If you think it's a reviving tonic, then you're right. His pulse was erratic and barely discernable anymore, it wouldn't have taken much more for his circulation to collapse entirely."

A chill ran down Harry's spine at those words. To him, it had not looked more serious than the first two seizures he had witnessed. Truly, it had lasted longer, but the mere thought that it had been that bad, to the point where it had threatened Remus' life…

Madam Pomfrey sighed deeply, then she nodded and conjured a stretcher underneath Remus' unmoving body.

"I'd better bring him up into the infirmary until he wakes up again."

And with those words, she levitated the stretcher towards the door and vanished. Snape picked up the empty bottle and put it on a counter underneath the window. Then he checked the watch in the pocket of his robes and pulled out his wand. He pocketed it again with a small, grim smile playing around his lips.

"Well, as much as this has been entertaining and distracting, we should use the remaining thirty minutes for something more productive. _Legilimens_!"


	24. Mindwalking

**Chapter 24 - Mindwalking**

Severus Snape was convinced that he was wasting his time. He'd do it to humour the headmaster, but he was convinced that this was absolutely unnecessary. Nevertheless, he silently walked into the Hogwarts infirmary where he had agreed to perform Legilimency on Lupin. The only thing that had been able to calm him somewhat was the notion that Lupin liked what they were about to do even less than he himself did, but still. He was wasting his time, Snape knew that.

Lupin was lying on the bed near the window, fast asleep. It was a potion induced sleep, as everything would be useless if he woke up in the middle of the performance, but it was no sleep induced by a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Naturally, this would have had an entirely ruining effect on what Snape was about to do. Instead, he had prepared a slight sedating potion for Lupin to take, the one where he was most sure of that it would not influence Lupin's dreams.

Actually, Snape had been against performing Legilimency on Lupin tonight, not after the man had collapsed again the day before. The physical condition wasn't playing an extremely important role where Legilimency was concerned, but what Snape was about to do could be a psychologically straining experience. He wasn't entirely convinced that it would be wise to add such a strain to Lupin's momentary state. But as he had voiced those thoughts to Albus, the headmaster had only nodded silently before stating his own case, one which Snape had not been able to disagree to. Lupin's seizures were coming more frequent now, and they were getting worse. Merlin only knew when the next fit would come, and if he would survive that one as well. It had been a close call last evening, the next time there might now be a reviving tonic immediately at hand. So in the end, he had agreed to performing Legilimency on Remus as soon as possible, and that was tonight.

Silently, Snape pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. Lupin's breathing was deep and regular, and after a few minutes Snape saw his eyes beginning to move behind his closed eyelids. A sure sign that he was dreaming.

Legilimency was a branch of magic that was difficult to control, even after years of practice. It wasn't wandless magic, the kind he would have preferred, and much unlike his beloved potions this was nothing that could be entirely predicted or even controlled. Of course not, after all there were two human minds at work, one of them being invaded by him. Once he had found a way into Lupin's mind, nobody could predict what would possibly happen. If Lupin allowed him access to his mind at all, that was something he was not even entirely sure of. Even though the werewolf was asleep, if he had indeed such a strong aversion against this experiment as he had shown earlier, it could very well be possible that he'd be blocking him out. Well, Snape thought with a grim smile, that was a challenge, if anything. He doubted that Lupin could stop him from penetrating his mind in the end, but of course it would only make things more difficult if Lupin fought Snape for long. He sighed lowly. He definitely had better things to do with his evenings than spending them in mental deadlock with stubborn werewolves. But Albus had asked him to do it despite all of Snape's own reservations, and Snape would have done nearly anything if the older wizard had asked him of it. Not so much because he felt he _owed_ it to the man, but because he could not stand the thought of disappointing him. Somehow, Dumbledore had that effect on people, even on Snape, though of course the Potions master would never voluntarily admit that.

Silently, Snape rolled up the sleeves of his robes, his eyes adamantly not looking at the mark he carried on his left arm, then after a moment of hesitation he got up from his chair and settled down on the mattress next to Lupin. For what he was about to do he'd need to reach out better than he could from the position on the chair.

For a moment he closed his eyes, breathed in and out deeply and tried to clear his mind of everything except from what he was about to do next. His right hand moved and pulled out his wand, aiming it at Lupin's forehead. All right, he'd better get through with this.

"_Legilimens_!"

Snape had performed this a number of times before. Not even counting his attempts at teaching Occlumency to Potter. Especially in his times at Voldemort's command, he had been pressured to force himself into a number of minds to extract certain memories. And he could already tell that Lupin was putting up a fight against his attempt to penetrate into his mind. It didn't surprise Snape in the least. Lupin might have agreed to letting Snape perform this on him, but that didn't mean he couldn't unconsciously put up a fight against it. Knowing that something would happen was one thing, allowing it to happen was another. The fight he was putting up was an entirely unconscious action, yet Snape would not allow Lupin to win that particular struggle. Just as he thought that he had finally succeeded, everything evaded him again. And again. And again.

But even if Remus Lupin was a strong-willed person, Severus Snape was as stubborn as they came and so he did not once let go off his concentration, and every time Lupin's mental barriers pushed him away he tried a bit more strongly to penetrate them. Snape had learned how to break through mental shields, he had the patience to wait.

And indeed, after a time when most others would probably already have given up, Snape felt Lupin's resistance melt away and he was rewarded for his efforts with a first glimpse on the tumble of images and emotions that constituted a dreaming person's mind.

While most people experienced dreaming just like living through whatever it was they were dreaming about, Legilimency unfortunately did not enable that the wizard performing it could sit by and watch it all like a muggle movie. And that exactly was the reason why Lupin had protested so vehemently against that intrusion of his mind, and that was also the reason why Snape would have flat out refused to perform this had anybody other than Albus Dumbledore asked it of him. To find out if there was truly a connection between Lupin and Black - no matter how unlikely that was - and if that connection was the reason why Lupin dreamt about Black so much lately, he needed to literally search through the werewolf's memory.

This was completely unnecessary of course. Snape doubted with every fibre of his being that Lupin's dreams had anything more to do with Black than being an expression of his grief. Though Snape truly didn't know why anybody should grieve for that man. They were all better off without that ever-bragging idiot, even Lupin. The man could have been a halfway decent person had it not been for his choice of friends - and of course for the fact that he was a werewolf. But now Snape had to search through Lupin's memory, just as if he had nothing better to do. As if he was the least interested in whatever was going on in Lupin's mind. No matter what he would find out with this, it definitely would be far more than he had ever wanted to know about him. But he had made a promise, and so Snape followed the trace of Lupin's mental presence through the flashing images of his memory, allowing himself to be drifted along with those images in the hope that they would show him what Lupin was dreaming about. He was powerful and trained enough to actively search for things in somebody else's mind, but that would only work if he knew what he was searching for. He didn't know that, which made actively searching a futile endeavour. He had not asked Dumbledore what exactly made him think that a bond between Lupin and Black existed. He didn't want to know too much beforehand, lest it influence what he was doing. If there was a bond, he would find out when and how it had been closed soon enough. All he knew was that Lupin was dreaming of Black regularly, and that was even more information than he had wanted to have. But he would find out, he thought grimly. Though there was nothing in Lupin's life he really wanted to see from the werewolf's perspective. Well, next to nothing. There might be one thing he was curious about, but that was not what he was here for. Maybe he should take a glimpse…but no. As much as Snape suddenly felt the unusual feeling of curiosity, he needed to search out where Lupin was, not lose himself in his own curiosities.

If somebody had asked Snape how that was to be accomplished, how one could possibly know where a person was momentarily caught in his memories he could not have voiced it. It was just a feeling, a pull into a certain direction where the images and memories were not resting like everywhere else, but where they were active. Not everybody could do this as easily as Snape, but the talent for Occlumency in its various forms ran in his blood. Along with another gift - or curse - which he didn't even want to think about, because its potential made even someone as hard as Snape shudder. No, he needed to focus on his task at hand now, needed to focus on finding Lupin's presence.

But what he found there when he finally reached his destination was by far not what he had imagined.

As if he was looking through somebody else's eyes - Lupin's if he should venture a guess - he saw a man lying on the ground in a street, he saw a large puddle of blood, he saw a wounded arm reaching for a fatal looking stab-wound, pressing down on it as hard as it could in an attempt to stop the blood-flow. Though Snape could immediately tell that it was a futile attempt. Snape knew a bit about wounds, and that one didn't look as if there was still something that could be done to save the injured man. Over and over again he was presented with those memories, he felt the desperation Lupin must have felt, felt his utter panic that Black would bleed to death here under his hands. For the man on the ground definitely was Black.

Snape could not make sense of this scene, but while those images flashed by in front of his mind's eye time and time again he realized that there indeed was something…the bleeding wounds, the desperation…he could feel Lupin draining himself into Black, and suddenly he was sure. That idiot had indeed closed a blood-oath with Black at some point in the past, most likely he had not even known about it at the time. And now this was drawing from him, this connection was sucking the strength out of him and wasting it on a dead man. As Snape tore his eyes away from the scene - or at least that was what he told himself he was doing, a distant part of his awareness knew that he actually had his eyes closed and was sitting on Lupin's bed - he thought he caught a glimpse of a robed figure standing on Lupin's other side. As Snape looked directly into this direction, the figure vanished, but again he saw movement from the corner of his eye. It was as if somebody else was here, in Lupin's mind, watching the two of them silently. Snape felt his presence, and suddenly he felt the overwhelming urge to leave this place. To leave Lupin's mind completely. He knew who that shadowy figure was, and he needed to get back to tell Albus about it.

With a tremendous effort, Snape tore himself away from where he had been enthralled by Lupin's memories. He had found out what he had been sent to search for - though it was not what he had expected. Something had to be done to sever that connection quickly, otherwise Lupin would not have very long to live left.

Retreating from somebody's mind was like pulling off a band-aid - one could either do it antagonizing slowly or quickly and a bit painfully. At the moment Snape didn't have the time to take the slow way even if he had preferred it, so he forced the awareness of where he was and what he was doing into the front of his mind quickly. He reminded himself that he was sitting in the Hogwarts infirmary, on Lupin's bed, he forced himself to become aware of the weight of his wand in his hand, of the strain in his arm from keeping the wand pointed at Lupin's forehead for the past minutes.

The first thing Snape realized was that he had slumped forward somehow, though not enough to wake the other man. When he tried to straighten up his vision started to blur and he got a slightly dizzy feeling in his head. Somebody put their hands on his shoulders and he could hear Dumbledore's voice speaking lowly into his ear.

"Breathe deeply, Severus. Just close your eyes and breathe, you've exhausted yourself a bit."

Only now did Snape notice that he was breathing flatly and rapidly, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Listening to Albus' advice as usual he closed his eyes and tried to will his breathing to slow down. It took him some long minutes to manage, but when he finally opened his eyes and turned back towards Dumbledore he didn't have the feeling that he was about to keel over anymore. The old headmaster looked at Snape with a worried glance.

"You've taken an awfully long time, Severus. I was getting worried that something had gone wrong."

Snape only shook his head, still a bit too breathless to speak properly.

"Did you find out something?"

Snape nodded, gesturing the headmaster that he still needed some more time to collect himself before he could explain everything he had found out. Dumbledore nodded and gently helped him to get up from the bed, leading him over towards the fireplace.

"You think you're up to flooing again, Severus? We could also wait for another moment."

Snape only shook his head.

"I've flooed and apparated in far worse conditions before, Albus."

He grabbed the floo powder from the mantle and threw it into the flames.

"Headmaster's office!"

Dumbledore watched him leave with a worried expression on his face then turned to follow him. Once arrived in his office and cleared off the ash and dust, he lost no time to position Snape on the sofa, and despite all of the younger man's protests wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and handed him a cup of steaming hot tea before he sat down in an armchair and repeated his question.

"What have you found out, Severus?"

Snape placed his cup on the coffee table in front of him and looked up at the headmaster. He didn't say anything for a moment, but the look in his eyes was actually answer enough.

"There is a bond?"

Snape nodded and exhaled deeply. "Yes, there is, if I'm the one to judge it."

A sad look settled on Dumbledore's face and he nodded worriedly. "I see. And you are absolutely sure about this, Severus?"

With any other person asking this question he would not even have dignified it with an answer. But this was Albus Dumbledore, and Snape understood why the headmaster saw the need to be absolutely sure about this. It wasn't because he didn't trust Snape's abilities, but because he was - as always - hoping to find another way out except from taking drastic means. But this time there would not be another way.

"I am sure, Albus. Absolutely sure."

"What did you see?"

Snape drank a bit of his tea and put the cup back onto the table in front of him. He was actually thankful for the blanket Dumbledore had given him, because he felt drained and cold after what had happened.

"Black was injured, and Lupin was trying to save his life. It was dark, somewhere outside, in a city. Black was losing a lot of blood, and Lupin was also bleeding. He was desperate to save Black's life, and literally poured himself into him. I don't know when that happened, but it must have been years ago. Before Black went to Azkaban, in any case, he was still wearing his hair short and looked a lot younger."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. For a moment, he stroke his beard with his thumbs, then he looked up at Snape again.

"That was fifteen years ago. I sent Remus and Sirius to locate a possible Death Eater hideout in London. However, they were ambushed and it was pure luck that saved them. Sirius' injuries were critical, and Remus nearly died as well." He sighed deeply. "I'm afraid it is as we feared. That was the occurrence Remus suspected which could have led to the closing of a blood-bond beneath him and Sirius. It seems he was right."

There was still a doubtful look on Dumbledore's face, though.

"What is it, Albus?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Maybe nothing. A small thing Remus said to me after the second time he collapsed. I asked him if he was dreaming lately, and he admitted that he was dreaming about Sirius. But he said he was dreaming about Sirius' death."

Snape shrugged. "I can't give you an answer to that. Lupin definitely wasn't dreaming about Black's death just now, he was dreaming about what I told you. And…"

Dumbledore looked up. "What, Severus?"

"I'm not sure, Albus. It's just a hunch, but I had the feeling that Black was present. Not physically present of course, but it was…I had the feeling that it wasn't just Lupin and me there. That's why I'm so convinced that there's a bond between Lupin and Black, no matter where the man is right now. A very strong bond, I can't explain otherwise."

Dumbledore sighed again.

"It was my suspicion that if there is a bond which causes Remus' condition, it has to be a very strong one. All the signs Remus shows hint at that."

"Yes", Snape grumbled. "We should have known. He even acted like Black, for Merlin's sake."

Dumbledore frowned. "What do you mean, Remus acted like him?"

"Don't tell me you didn't notice how he behaved during the Order meetings. He lost control of his temper more than once, or do I need to remind you that he even hit me? Now at least we know where that came from."

Dumbledore looked at Snape and frowned. "Be that as it may. We need to talk to him about this as soon as he wakes up."

"I don't think Lupin will be very happy when you tell him that we need to cut him off from Black. He will not allow it."  
Dumbledore shook his head resolutely.

"He will have no choice, Severus."

Snape watched the older man for some long moments. He knew the man who had once been his headmaster very well by now, better than he knew anybody else. Dumbledore was one of the few people who had taken the effort to break through Snape's shields and see the person beneath it, one of the few people who had never given up on him. Over the years a close friendship had developed between the two so different men, and Snape knew how much his mentor was bothered by everything that had happened during the past weeks. He knew that though Dumbledore had always been aware of Black's faults and vices, he had held respect and even more expectations to the man, and his death had crossed many of the plans Dumbledore had developed for the Order. Dumbledore cared about Lupin as well, and even Snape had to agree grudgingly that the werewolf was both extremely intelligent and useful for their cause. If he was in a better shape than he had been during the past weeks.

Breaking those news to Lupin bothered Dumbledore already, that much Snape could tell. The headmaster looked sad and tired, caught in one of those moments where the burden of all the responsibilities he carried seemed to weigh too heavy for the man to bear. If Lupin would break under this situation it would certainly throw all of them back a little, but Dumbledore more so than others.

Snape was not good in giving comfort, so he didn't even try to think of a useless platitude he could tell the headmaster. So instead he finished his tea, folded the blanket Dumbledore had given him and got up from his seat.

"Let me know when Lupin wakes up, I'd like to be there when you tell him, if you have nothing against it."

Dumbledore nodded warily. "I will. Thank you, Severus."

Snape nodded his acknowledgements and left the office, this time using the door rather than the floo network. He had a couple of things on his mind and wanted to think them through on his way through the castle.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

In the early morning hours, a nervous house elf told Snape that Professor Dumbledore requested his presence in the hospital wing. Knowing this to mean that Lupin had woken up, Snape put the work with which he had tried to distract his thoughts aside and left his office towards the infirmary.

It was eight in the morning now and Snape was actually quite tired. He had not slept that night - had not been able to sleep after his little visitation in Lupin's mind - and the magic he had performed on Lupin earlier had drawn from his strength. But he knew he needed to see the end of this whole affair before he could rest peacefully again, or at least as peacefully as his sleep usually was. Trust Black to be cause for such a chaos even after he was dead. That bragger had always needed to stand in the spotlight, why should he have expected this to end simply because he was dead? Dead might stop just about anybody, but not Sirius Black. He should have known.

He reached the infirmary and pushed the wooden doors open. When he entered the room he realized with quite some relief that at least Potter this time was not sitting around here as well, demanding to be included in what was going on. Had it not been for the stupid teenager, none of this would have been necessary in the first place, and Snape saw absolutely no reason to give in to Potter's whining and complaining all the time.

Lupin was sitting up in his bed, dressed already in his shabby robes and a cup of tea in his hand. With a grim satisfaction Snape noticed that Lupin's hand was shaking ever so slightly. The werewolf saw his gaze and quickly placed the cup on the nightstand.

"Ah Severus, there you are."

Snape was a bit startled when he heard Dumbledore's voice suddenly speak up behind him, but he managed not to let his surprise show. Instead, he calmly turned and nodded at the older wizard, then moved over to the foot end of the bed and threw a glare at Lupin, just for good measure. Lupin glared back, though amateurishly compared to Severus' own stare.

"Enjoyed snooping around in my mind, Severus?"

Snape didn't react, instead he waited for Albus to speak as he knew the headmaster would. He was not disappointed.

"Severus only did as I asked him to, Remus. What _you_ agreed to. And he found out something which you might consider important."

Remus did say nothing as a response to Dumbledore's gentle reprimand, he merely turned his head towards Snape again and raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry. Snape decided to get this over with as quickly and brusquely as he could manage.

"From what I saw, you really managed to bind yourself with one of the most powerful wizarding bonds to Black, Lupin. Black is present in your mind, and he draws from you."  
Remus' eyes widened, though this revelation didn't come out of the blue.

"Then how come I don't _feel_ his presence if he is there? You could be wrong, Severus."

"You _do_ feel it, Lupin. Or what do you think are those seizures? Nothing more than him drawing from your strength, just like he did the night you save his life. And those dreams about Black every night? Your unconscious is trying to tell you something, in case you hadn't noticed."

For a long moment, Remus remained silent and stared at something obviously only he could see.

"But how? Sirius is dead, Severus. I saw him fall through that archway. He is dead."

Snape shrugged.  
"My task was solely to find out whether a connection exists, and now that I have confirmed it I think the rest is up to somebody else."

And with a swirl of his robes, Snape turned and vanished out of the room, a slightly satisfied grin on his face as he saw Lupin's worry-lined face.

Remus remained sitting on the bed, his gaze distant towards the opposite wall. After a few moments, Dumbledore stepped up to his bed.

"I trust Severus, Remus. I trust that he is telling the truth. He isn't doing this to spite you."  
Slowly, Remus turned his head towards the headmaster.

"I know that, Albus. That doesn't make it easier, though. If there is a bond between Sirius and me, for all I know that means he isn't dead."

There was no trace of hope in Remus' expression, though, if solely because he didn't allow any to enter his features. Dumbledore sighed and pulled up a chair next to the bed.

"For all we know, he _is_ dead. At the very least he's far beyond our reach. And for some reason, he is still drawing from you, which means that wherever he is, he'll pull you with him. I can imagine that it's only the connection with you that is still keeping him bound to this world."

Remus nodded slowly, his fingers drumming soundlessly against his thighs.

"So I have the choice to either let this connection kill me, or to cut it off somehow. And kill Sirius."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Those are the choices, yes. But please Remus, keep in mind that Sirius is already dead. Beyond our help. It's you we have to worry about now."

"I…when, what do you suggest?"

"There is a full moon tomorrow. We should wait until it has passed. For one, we need to find a way of how to best sever the bond. And this will weaken you, which is why I think it wise to wait until you are recovered from your transformation."

"If not another seizure comes in between."

Dumbledore sighed. "That is something beyond our control, Remus. We have to hope that it won't come to that. But for the moment, that is all I can think about doing."

Remus nodded and carefully got up from the bed.

"I thank you, Albus. I…I need to think about that for a while."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand. You know where to find me, in case there is anything you need."

Remus nodded and slowly walked towards the door, so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the old headmaster's sad gaze at his retreating form.


	25. How to Not Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

**Chapter 25 – How to Not Let Sleeping Dogs Lie**

Harry was feeling even more nervous as he went down into the dungeons for his next Occlumency lesson. Snape had cancelled last night's session, without giving Harry any reason for it, so this was the first time he saw his professor after he had formed his plan.

Yesterday, Harry had remained in the library until it had become dark, researching blood oaths, blood magic, resurrection and Necromancy. Late in the afternoon, Remus had sought him out there, obviously intending to talk to him. Harry had been rather court with his former teacher, answering monosyllabically to Remus' questions and blocking off all his further attempts to talk to him. Harry knew that it was unfair, he knew that nothing about this situation was Remus' fault, and he wasn't really angry with him for anything. But still he had not wanted to talk to him just then, and after a few minutes Remus had left the library again, leaving Harry to his researches. Harry had had the feeling that Remus had wanted to talk about something with him, but even if that was true, Harry had not been in the mood for any conversation, no matter the topic.

This morning, Harry had returned to the library for his research, and now he thought he had as much information as the books would give him with so little time to study them. Time for the next step – extract further information from the most likely human source.

Carefully, Harry knocked on Snape's door.

"Enter!"

Harry did as he was bid, entered the gloomy office and closed the door behind himself. Snape was equally gloomy as his office, just as usual. He was standing behind his desk, putting a stack of parchments into one of the drawers before he looked up at Harry.

"Mr. Potter."

"Good evening, sir."

Snape nodded courtly and stepped out from behind his desk. "Well then, let us start. You are still having difficulties with stopping me to penetrate your mind. What you lack is focus. Let's see if you practiced what I told you yesterday."

Harry had, as he did every evening. Without any results which he could discern, but no matter how much he tried to clear his mind before falling asleep, it just didn't work. He had told Snape about that, more than once, but so far there had not been anything useful Snape could have advised him to do.

But for his nightly lessons he always was guarded, he always tried to clear his mind even before he entered Snape's office, to stop him from catching him unawares. So Harry was not really surprised as Snape without further preamble pulled out his wand and aimed it at Harry. Harry had his own wand out, and he, too, brought it up to defend himself.

"_Legilimens_!"

It was - to say it short - exhausting. For over an hour Snape attacked Harry again and again, with more or less success. Harry didn't manage to ward Snape's efforts off completely, but he also didn't allow his professor to penetrate deep enough to evoke the really painful memories, but still Harry was relived when Snape finally called an end to their lesson. He, unlike Harry, was not really satisfied with Harry's progress.

"You're still letting me in too easily, Potter. You've become rather adept at fighting me back to a certain point, but the main aim of these lessons is that you learn to stop somebody from penetrating your mind in the first place. You lack focus, but I'm slowly getting the feeling that this is not something in you that can be remedied, ever."

Harry bit his lip and forced down a remark in answer to that. He should know better by now than to let Snape goad him into an emotional outbreak. And he had something else on his mind, for which it would not be a wise idea to enrage Snape without need.

As Snape noticed that Harry made no movement to leave his office, like he normally couldn't do fast enough after their lessons, he threw an annoyed glance at his least liked student.

"Was there anything else, Potter? I have other work to do."

Harry took a deep breath. He had thought himself prepared, but at this moment he doubted that asking Snape was such a good idea.

"What is it, Potter? I haven't stolen my time, you know?"

"It's…I have a question, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow, and as Harry didn't answer immediately he sighed exasperatedly.

"Potter, do I have to ask for every single word you say? You have a question, then in Merlin's name, ask it!"

"Why can't Sirius be brought back?"

"What?"

"I was asking why everybody says that…"

"I understood what you said", Snape snapped. "But how dare you ask me such a question?"

Harry crossed his arms defiantly. "Because I have enough of people telling me that I don't understand. Nobody knows better than me that there are a great many things which I don't know, but I'm not entirely stupid!"

"You will not talk to me in that tone, Potter", Snape said very lowly, very coldly. It did nothing to cool Harry's temper, though he did lower his voice.

"I'm not stupid", he repeated. "I have heard what Professor Dumbledore said about Sirius. He might not be within reach, but he is not really dead. And before they cut off whatever little connection is left with him, I tried to find a way to bring him back."

Snape suddenly looked as if all this greatly amused him. "You tried to find a way to bring Black back from the dead?"

"He is not dead!"

Snape turned suddenly and made a few steps towards Harry, towering menacingly over him. "Black is _dead_, and nothing Professor Dumbledore, Lupin or you do will change anything about it. Now stop pestering me with this nonsense!"

"There has to be a way to bring Sirius back!"

Snape suddenly sneered at Harry. "And just _how_ far are you ready to go to achieve that aim? Which borders are you willing to cross, which means are you willing to take just to '_bring him back_', Potter?"

Harry did his best to hide how intimidated and even scared he really felt at that moment and gave Snape his most defiant glare.

"I'd do anything to bring him back! But nobody seems willing to even try to help me with it. Everybody has already given him up."

Snape sank down and relaxed back in his chair, his hands building a triangle in front of his face which didn't do anything to hide his big sneer, either. He was enjoying this immensely, far more than Harry would consider to be good.

"And you come to me in order to ask me to help you. How very touching, Potter, but I'm afraid that the answer is no. Now, if you'd be so kind and leave me alone, I'm afraid there is some work I need to do which is more important than worrying about your precious godfather. Counting newt livers or staring out of the window."

Snape got up from his chair and - indicating that for him the conversation was undoubtedly over - went towards the empty cauldron which sat next to an open book on his workbench. Within moments the sour Potions master seemed to be completely absorbed in his work. Harry still stood in front of Snape's desk, slightly flushed and a look of complete and utter disbelief on his face. With a few quick strides he stormed to where Snape stood at the workbench.

"So that's it for you, isn't it? How very convenient! I'd bet that even if there was a way to bring Sirius back and you knew about it you would not tell me, just to take revenge for a couple of stupid teenage pranks my father and he played at you, isn't that so? Just because you're a sour and disgruntled man who was never able to forget, you're risking his life right now!"

A couple of different emotions passed across Snape's face as he for a moment just stared at Harry, and before the teenager knew what happened the man had grabbed him by the front of his robes and had pushed him non-too-gently up against the wall.

"Don't you dare, Potter, don't you dare to talk about things you can't even begin to understand! Are you even aware what you are talking about here? Are you aware what it is you're asking of me?"

Despite his inferior position, Harry still matched Snape when it came to anger and strength of will, and he had no intention of giving in just now.

"All I'm asking is you to help me find a way to bring Sirius back. Because I know there is one, I know there has to be one. And whatever it takes, I'm going to seize a chance when it offers itself."

Snape let go abruptly and stepped back as if he had just realized that he was close to strangling a student. For a long moment he stared at Harry, then he slowly shook his head.

"You don't understand it, Potter. This is not about whether or not I _want _you to bring Black back. It is not about Black. My answer would be the same if it was Lupin or any of the Weasleys, Draco Malfoy or even Professor Dumbledore we were talking about. Let me ask you one simple question, Potter: why did you come to me with your request? Why me and not, for example, Lupin?"

"Because you know more about those things than he does."

"_Those things_, Potter?" Snape shook his head as if he was deeply disappointed. "So that is the famous Gryffindor daring and courage? Not even able to name things? I know more about the Dark Arts than anybody else you know, that's it, isn't it?"

Hesitantly, Harry nodded. Up until that moment, he had not even dared to think those words for himself, but the moment Snape had said them he knew them to be true. And what did it matter if it was Snape's knowledge in the Dark Arts that helped to bring Sirius back?

"Sit, Potter."

"What?"

Snape sighed and folded his lean frame into his chair. "I said: Sit down, because I want your attention focussed completely on what I am going to say right now. I don't intend to repeat myself every other day just because you didn't listen properly."

Fighting down the urge to remain standing just for the sake of disagreeing with his least favourite professor, Harry sat down in the visitor's chair in front of Snape's desk.

Snape nodded at him.

"Now listen and for once in your life do not interrupt me. I cannot help you in bringing Black back, even if it were only for the reason that I don't know a way to do so." Seeing that Harry was about to protest, he raised his hand and silenced the teenager with one hard look. Harry had not thought it possible, but something in Snape's gaze made him obey. "I said don't interrupt me, Potter.

Do you actually know what it is that you are asking for? Are you aware what this '_anything_'you're willing to do to save your precious godfather could cost you? How much you might have to pay for bringing him back, if there was a way as the one you are talking about?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, Snape continued.

"No you don't. Otherwise you would not have dared to ask in the first place. You say you came to me because I know more about Dark Magic than Lupin or maybe anybody else you know. By now you're maybe convinced that you'd be willing to use Dark Magic to bring Black back, but you would not be asking at all if you knew what that meant.

Do you know which ways there are to bring the dead back, Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Professor Dumbledore always says that the dead can't be brought back. But I just couldn't believe that."

Snape chuckled mirthlessly. "Professor Dumbledore is right, Potter."

Harry shook his head. "But I've read that…"

Snape raised a hand to stop him. "Finally stop interrupting me, Potter! Professor Dumbledore is right in saying that the dead can't be brought back. When somebody dies, there is no bringing them back just like that."

"Then what is Necromancy, if not a way to resurrect the dead?", Harry asked, not minding Snape's repeated orders not to interrupt him. Snape reacted as if he had been slapped into the face. He paled, if that was possible with his normally ashen complexion, but a dangerously red colour slowly rose up from his neck towards his jaw. Harry thought he had never seen his professor this angry before, and his heart was beating hard in his throat.

"It is nothing you need to waste your time with, Potter", Snape finally brought out between clenched teeth. Still, his voice was dripping with ice. "I don't want to hear you ever talk about it again."

"But I read that…"

"I don't care what you've read!", Snape bellowed, jumped up from his chair and slammed his palms on the table. "There are certain lines a wizard should never cross, Potter! This is such a line! And if you had truly researched the topic, then you would know that if anything, Necromancy is no way to bring back your precious godfather. It isn't a way for anything, actually, other than creating problems far too big for you to deal with. And now this conversation is over."

"No, it's not!", Harry yelled right back. He didn't particularly care about Snape's earlier reprimands anymore, he knew he was right, he knew that his research had yielded a way to bring Sirius back, he only didn't know how to use that way. Not yet, in any case. But he intended to find out.

"I won't accept that as an answer, _sir_. There is a way to bring back the dead, or people who are trapped, like Sirius is. You said so yourself, earlier. You wouldn't have asked me which ways there are to bring the dead if there were none. Why can you never give me a straight answer to any question I ask?"

"Because sometimes you have to work for the answers you want to have, Potter. Don't expect that there will always be others presenting you the answers to all questions on a silver platter!"

"Why won't you tell me about Necromancy? If you think that it's no way to bring Sirius back, then there has to be a reason for you to think so."

Snape shook his head, as if he couldn't quite believe that Harry would not let go off the topic.

"Yes, I have reasons why I think so. Reasons which are based on experience, quite unlike your hunch that brought you to investigate Necromancy. Now tell me, why should I reveal those reasons to you? Why is it that you simply cannot accept it when somebody tells you that they know better than you do?"

"Because I need to _understand_ whyit can't be done! If I already have to accept that Sirius won't come back, then I need a reason that I can understand!"

Snape shook his head, the same expression on his face which he always wore when he was confronted with a particularly thick student. But after a long moment during which Harry did not back down, he crossed his legs and stared hard at Harry.

"What is magic, Potter?"

"Pardon?"

"I asked you a simple question, do I really need to repeat myself?"

"No, I just don't understand why you're asking me. Magic is…it's hard to describe. It's a way of achieving things, a way which the muggles don't have."

"Yes Potter, but what _is_ magic? For a wizard, what is it?"

Harry frowned, surprised by the question. Was this some kind of test, or would any pure-blooded wizard who had grown up as such immediately know the answer?

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."  
"What I'm talking about, Potter, is that for every wizard magic at first isn't more than an inborn ability."

"You could have simply told me that."

Snape glared coldly at Harry, but didn't comment. After a moment he continued.

"For a wizard, magic isn't any different from the ability to walk - it is potentially there but without any practice it can't be used properly."

Harry bit back another comment and tried to focus on what his teacher was saying. He only hoped that Snape would start to make sense soon.

"So what I'm trying to say is that just like a child can theoretically walk into any direction one day with a bit of practice, wizards can use their magic in any way they wish. Some are more powerful than others, but then again some people can also run faster than others. You can follow me so far?"

Harry nodded a bit dumbly, wondering what Snape was driving at with this strange comparison. When the Potions master continued his voice was sharper than usual and his eyes were reduced to mere slits.

"What do you think makes Dark Magic dark, Potter? Because if you think for just one moment that you can think in those black-and-white categories here, then you are vastly mistaken."

He didn't even give Harry time to think about an answer for his previous question. Instead he lifted himself out of his chair and started walking up and down slowly in front of the fireplace, his hands folded behind his back, not much unlike he did in lessons.

"What you have come to know, fear and fight against as 'Dark Arts' or 'Dark Magic' is not _dark_ or _wrong_ per se, Potter. It becomes that because of the intention of the wizard who uses it. And because many a wizard and witch used certain spells and practices with the intention of gaining for themselves without caring about what borders they had to cross to achieve this - _that_ is why certain practices were banned from usage and declared 'dark'. Not because they are dark in their nature. Most magic isn't good or bad. Dark Magic comes into being the moment a wizard decides to use his inborn abilities to walk into the wrong direction - which would be where we come back to our previous comparison."

He stopped behind his desk and leaned forward, both hands on the polished surface. For a long moment, black eyes bore into green ones and the tension in the room grew thicker.

"Why do you tell me that?", Harry finally dared to ask.

"I go the lengths of telling you this, Potter, because ever since Black got himself killed you are dangerously close to walking into the wrong direction, and believe me, once you turned there, it's unbearably hard to find the way back again. You came here under the illusion that a little Dark Magic can easily solve all your problems - which is absolutely wrong -, that I have ample experience with performing so called 'Dark Magic' - with which you are right - and that I'd willingly help you if I could - I don't really need to tell you that this assumption could not be more wrong, do I?

Potter, to put it in simple terms even you can understand: it cannot be done, and even if it could, I would not be the right person to ask for help. In any case, Necromancy will not help you to achieve what you want. Necromancy is one of the few branches of magic which are simply dark in their nature, no matter the intent with which it is used, and definitely the wrong direction in which to walk. Maybe you should instead focus your energy on keeping yourself alive and on the right side of this war."

Harry's eyes widened at the implied statement. "I know perfectly well which side I stand on!"

He indignantly jumped out of his chair, outraged that Snape even dared to think something like that.

But Snape only sneered at him coldly.

"_I'd do **anything** to bring him back!_" Snape's high-pitched imitation filled the room mockingly. But before Harry could find his voice again Snape grew serious and rose from his chair.

"Be careful what you wish for, Potter. And be especially careful what prize you are willing to pay for your wishes. Because there are some people who might offer to fulfil your wish, people who do not stand on the same side as we do now. What would you do then, Potter?

I know that you don't usually listen to advice no matter who gives it, but be told that nothing is worth selling your soul for. That prize is simply too high, no matter what you're offered in return. Take this from somebody who has more experience in selling his soul than you will hopefully ever have. Necromancy is no solution to your problem, and it is nothing that will ever bring Black back to you. It will only make your problem worse. Necromancy is not a way to bring back the dead, it's a way to interfere with death. Death doesn't like to be cheated with. I know that it sounds tempting, but the consequences might be too high a price for the possible results it could give you. Let Black go, it's the only way. Nothing can bring him back from where he is now.

And now get out of here. I don't know why everybody thinks they can steal my time during the holidays, but I have work to do."

Harry did, though in the end he could not remember leaving the office, or walking back up to Gryffindor tower and into his dormitory.

What he didn't know, what nobody ever saw that night, was that Snape didn't return to his work immediately. Instead, the potions master remained seated at his desk long after Harry had left his office. Outwardly he looked calm, but inside, he was fighting down a turmoil of emotions the likes which he had not experienced in a long time. But he would not allow Potter to push open a door which he had struggled to keep closed for such a long time. He simply could not allow that to happen.

After a very long time, Snape drew a deep breath, rose from his chair and turned to walk out of the office. His private quarters were a number of rooms located close to the Slytherin Common Rooms. The heads of the houses were the only teachers who didn't have a free choice of where they wanted to reside. The other teachers, if they cared about it, could choose between a number of quarters that were spread all over the north and western wing of the castle, but the heads of the houses were supposed to be close to their charges in case of an emergency. In all the years since Severus had started teaching at Hogwarts, not even the most curious student had managed to find out where his private quarters were – though it wasn't for a lack of trying – and he intended to have it remain that way.

Passing the hidden entrance to the Slytherin Common Room on his left, he went farther down the corridor, turned right into an outcropping so narrow that it didn't entirely qualify as a corridor, then turned to the right again into a small and dark alcove. From the corridor, nobody could see how Severus raised a hand and placed his palm against a certain stone, whispering a password at the wall. Noiselessly, a partition of the wall glided aside and revealed an old but solid looking oaken door. Another password was whispered, upon which a doorknob appeared and Snape opened the door. The whole process had taken less than ten seconds and had not caused any noise aside from the low whispers. Severus entered his living room, waved a hand to light a fire in the fireplace, then went over towards a small cupboard that stood against the wall.

Pouring himself a glass of scotch, he sank down in his favourite armchair and numbly stared into the flames, his thoughts drifting far away to his earlier conversation with Potter. But after a while, he downed his drink, shook off those thoughts and got up again. He'd not continue to brood about this for an entire evening. Snape put the empty glass away, got up from his armchair and walked over into his bedroom. On his way there, he stopped in front of a low cabinet that stood against the wall in the corner. He checked twice that it was securely locked, then he nodded to himself, pushing his concerns and worries into the back of his mind where he firmly locked them away. Right now he needed to sleep. Snape left the living room and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind himself.


	26. Reconciliation

**Chapter 26 – Reconciliation**

Remus had actually entertained the idea of spending the full moon night in the Shrieking Shack. He had not done that ever since his last transformation as a student. During his year as a teacher he had always stayed in his office, behind locked doors. It had seemed safe enough, with the Wolfsbane potion. He had the potion now as well, and there weren't any students except Harry whom he could endanger, but still Remus had decided against staying in the Shack. For one, it would probably bring back too many memories, and Wolfsbane or not, transformations were always worse when there was something weighing on his mind. No, he simply could not transform in a place that involved so many memories, memories of times when life had been simple and he had been happy. And another, very sensible reason was that the Shack was too far away from the castle. Given his physical condition at the moment, it could very well be that he needed Madam Pomfrey's help after the transformation, and it might take too long to get him from the Shack back into the castle.

And so Remus had spent the night of his transformation in one of the guest rooms at Hogwarts, the one that was closest to the infirmary. It had proven to be a good decision in the end. Not so much because he was in acute danger after his transformation, but because he was far too weak to move, let alone get back from the Shack to the Castle. Madam Pomfrey looked after him, again with that slightly disapproving countenance, just as if he was a stray student who had refused to take his medicine regularly. She ordered him to eat whatever the house-elves brought him, hunger or not, and gave him so many nourishing and strengthening potions that Remus thought his muscles had to be growing without him actually doing anything. But it helped, he had to admit grudgingly. By mid-afternoon, he was already able to get out of bed and move back upstairs into the Gryffindor tower.

But while Harry had been glued to his bedside after his last collapse, the teenager had not once looked after Remus ever since the transformation. Remus didn't mind, he was used to being alone and had not expected Harry to be there when he woke up, but he read this as the sign that Harry was still angry with him. And that was something he'd have to work against, he didn't want the teenager to be angry with him. But facts didn't change, whether he reconciled with Harry or not, it still was the horrible truth that Remus could do nothing to bring Sirius back. And if Harry could not forgive him for that, Remus could not blame him. But he also could do nothing to help Harry now, even though he knew just how much the teenager needed it.

But Harry was not in Gryffindor tower when Remus left his bedroom again. He guessed that the teenager was hiding out in the library again, searching for a way to bring Sirius back under the pretence of finishing his summer assignments. He had tried to seek him out there two days ago, without any real success. Harry was angry with him, and for the moment he'd have to accept that.

Just as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung aside and Remus left Gryffindor tower, he heard steps approaching. To his surprise, it was Dumbledore who was coming towards him, not Harry.

"Ah, Remus. I was just searching for you."

Remus stepped up to him with a slight frown. "What is it?"

"Would you care for a tea in my office? If you feel up to it, I don't know what Poppy said about you roaming the castle again." The midnight blue eyes sparkled in amusement behind Dumbledore's glasses. Remus nodded automatically, but without any real conviction. He knew what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about, he only didn't quite know if he really wanted to make his mind up about the possible ways of severing his connection to Sirius.

"Sure, Albus."

He fell into step beside the old headmaster and went up towards his office. Harry was obviously on his way back towards Gryffindor tower, they came across him on one of the moving staircases. The teenager watched the two adults warily, but wordlessly nodded polite greetings to both before he vanished down the corridor through which Remus and Dumbledore had come. As they went around a bend, Dumbledore threw Remus a sideward glance.

"He doesn't take it very well, does he?"

Remus sighed and shook his head. "No, he doesn't. He didn't deal with Sirius' death at all, and this state of uncertainty is nagging at him. He is convinced that there has to be a way to bring Sirius back."

Dumbledore nodded, but didn't say anything as they continued to make their way towards his office.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry was seething with anger by the time he stomped through the portrait hole and into the common room. Seeing Dumbledore and Remus together was of course no unusual occurrence, and nothing to rise his temper, but Harry knew exactly what those two would be discussing as soon as they reached Dumbledore's office. It was unfair! Harry knew that there had to be a way to bring Sirius back, he only needed a bit more time to find it. His conversation with Snape had not brought him as far as he had wanted to, but something about the man's behaviour when Harry had mentioned Necromancy told him that he had hit the right spot. He only needed some time to find out how to bring his godfather back.

Harry slammed the door to his dormitory shut behind him and threw himself across his bed. It just wasn't fair, it was so bloody unfair! He drummed his hands against the mattress, but not even that helped to dissolve his anger somewhat. Not at all.

With an angry grunt, he picked up the notes he had taken in the library and began to look through them. If Dumbledore and Remus were already planning to cut Sirius off, then he didn't have much time left to find out what he had to do to bring Sirius back.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

As they entered the headmaster's office, Remus was surprised to find that Dumbledore's desk was not as neat as it usually was, but instead was covered in parchments and open books, an odd quill spread here and there to mark a page or simply where it had been randomly buried during whatever research the headmaster had conducted. Dumbledore gestured for Remus to pull up a chair in front of the desk, and sat down in his own armchair behind it. It was the same situation that Remus had found himself in often as a student, mostly with Sirius, James and Peter at his side, but already back then he had never felt intimidated by the situation. Dumbledore had always been too friendly to evoke fear in Remus, and other than a slight queasiness about the amount of research Dumbledore had conducted, he felt perfectly normal. As normal as one could be in this situation.

Before he went down to business, Dumbledore went over to a small silver tray on a low table beside the desk and poured two cups of tea. He added a slice of lemon into each cup and handed Remus one of them. Then he sank down into his chair with a sigh.

"This is all about the blood oath?", Remus asked after he had taken a sip of the delicious tea, pointing at the parchments and books. Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, in a way. I've spent the past day with a thorough research on the topic. Until Severus told me that he was sure about the existence of the bond, I was still hoping that something else was the explanation for your seizures. But now that he confirmed the existence of the bond, I needed to make sure that there is indeed no other way to help you than to sever the bond. And of course, the question of _how_ to sever the bond is of utmost importance."

Remus abruptly put down his teacup.

"Indeed the question of how interests me, assuming for the moment that I agree to the separation of the bond."

Dumbledore looked at him curiously, but seemingly decided to let Remus' small note of protest go unnoticed for the moment.

"Severing a blood bond is not easy, Remus. You know as well as I do that blood magic is extremely strong, and considering that your blood-bond with Sirius was closed without any conscious notion behind it, a conscious and willing separation is a difficult thing to achieve."

Remus crossed his legs and thought for a moment, then he looked up.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but to my knowledge a blood-bond can only be severed by the death of one of the involved."

Dumbledore looked down onto the desktop for a moment, then he looked up at Remus and nodded.

"I have researched the topic as thoroughly as I could in the given time, and unfortunately this is the only conclusion to which I came."

"And while the fact that the bond still exists means that Sirius somehow is not really dead, it also means that I have to die in order to sever the bond."

"Think again, Remus. I know that you have a very sharp mind, you cannot honestly think that I would accept killing you as a possibility. It would be rather ridiculous to kill you in order to save your life."  
"I thought as much, Albus. But if the only chance to sever the bond is my death…"

"Then we have to betray your body into thinking it was dead."

Remus sighed and shook his head. "How?"

"Potions, for one. That would be the safest way. There is a concoction that would arrest all your vital signs and in fact render you dead. If you are given the antidote in time, you will recover, and we can only hope that this will be enough to sever the bond."

"So I shall poison myself and simply trust Severus to give me an antidote, all the while hoping that this surreal arrangement will sever the blood-bond between Sirius and me? Sorry Albus, but it sounds a bit far-fetched to me."

"I know, Remus." Albus buried his head in his hands. "Don't you think I know how all that sounds? But I'm by no means an uneducated man, I lack neither knowledge nor resources to gather knowledge, but this is the only thing I could think of. You have to be dead in order to cut off the bond, so we have to make it look as if you were dead to achieve that goal. If you know any way to achieve that, any other way, please tell me. I can't think of anything, and I spent the whole past night brooding about it."

Remus closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, again and again.

"Do you…Can you imagine how awful this is?" He got up from his chair and started pacing up and down in front of the headmaster's desk. "How can I make such a decision, can you tell me that? How am I supposed to decide if I even have the right to do that?"

"Because it is your life to decide about."

"That's not what I mean", Remus snapped, more sharply than he would normally talk to the headmaster. "I might not particularly like the idea to lay my life in Severus' hands, but I know that he would not harm me on purpose. I'm talking about Sirius, not about me. Tell me, do I have the right to this? How can I make that choice, how can I condemn him to death? What if Harry is right and there is still a chance to bring him back? I can't live with myself if that is the case."

Dumbledore nodded and watched Remus calmly. "I understand, Remus. But those are the facts. We know that there is a bond between you and Sirius, and we know that this connection will kill you if we don't do something against it. We don't know when the next seizure will come, but it will come. We don't have time for lengthy researches. But the hard fact is that Sirius fell through the veil. Nobody has ever come back from where he is now. Were it not for the bond with you, he should already be dead, and there is no way to bring back the dead. None that I could accept."

Remus nervously kneaded his hands.

"When?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I would need to talk to Severus, we'd need to make preparations, need to make sure that nothing will go wrong. But if possible, I would not want to wait more than three or four days."

Remus swallowed heavily. "I see. I…let's talk about this again tomorrow. I need some time to think."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, Remus. If there is anything I can do…"

Remus quickly shook his head. "No, thank you, but there is nothing you can do at the moment."

And without waiting for a reply, Remus turned around and left the office. He didn't return to Gryffindor tower, though. He needed to be alone for a while now, he needed to make up his mind about the decision he was about to make. Five minutes later, he left the castle and turned towards the lake, heading for a walk.

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Harry didn't even bother to look up when he heard somebody knock on his door. The number of people who could possibly come and see him right now was extremely limited, so he was not the least surprised to hear the sound of the door being opened and then Remus' voice call out lowly.

"Harry?"

Instead of answering, Harry turned onto his stomach on the bed and stared at Remus. Hesitantly, the man entered the room fully, closed the door behind himself and sat down on the bed next to Harry's. Remus' face was flushed and his hair was dishevelled as if he had been outside for a longer stretch of time. He didn't seem to know exactly how to best approach Harry, but Harry decided that he would not make it easier for him. After all, there could only be one possible reason why Remus would seek him out after his talk with Dumbledore, especially with such a look on his face.

"Come to tell me that you've cut him off?"

Harry turned his back towards Remus before he could answer and stared at the far off wall. For a long moment, there was silence. When Remus answered, he sounded somehow timid and fragile, something Harry was not used from him.

"Do you think that all this is easy for me?"

Harry only shrugged, not turning around.

"Harry, please look at me."

When Harry didn't react to the plea at first, Remus got up and went over to the other side of the bed. He looked at Harry imploringly, silently pleading him not to play hide and seek with him just now.

"I've been talking to Professor Dumbledore for quite some time just now."

"Yeah, asking him how to get rid of Sirius for good."

Remus shook his head sadly, but Harry seemed to need to get something off his chest. He sat up on the bed, glaring daggers at his former teacher.

"That's all everybody's thinking of, isn't it? How to best get rid of Sirius! Nobody's asking me what I feel about this!"

Remus sighed.

"Harry, I can understand that you feel left out again. And I can understand that you got your hopes up that Sirius might still be alive and you might get him back. Don't you think I feel the same about it? Don't you think I'd consider even the slightest chance to get him back as a gift I wasn't even hoping for anymore? Because I do. I know how you feel because what happened to Sirius has hit me equally hard, but you have to understand that it is not up to you to decide. Whatever happens next will be _my_ choice to make, Harry."  
"So you think you can decide to kill Sirius off, just like that?"  
"That is unfair, Harry."

But Harry only shook his head.

"You said you'd do anything you could to bring him back! You said that to me more than once since you came to visit me in the hospital at the beginning of the summer, have you already forgotten about it?"

"If I could, I would do anything to bring him back. I would gladly give my life to do so, that's what I've been telling you and it's still the truth."  
"Doesn't look like it from here."

Remus buried his head in his hands for a moment and remained silent. When he was looking up again, he wiped his eyes slightly, but even despite that movement, Harry had seen the mist clouding over his amber eyes.

"That I have a bond with Sirius and that he still seems to be able to draw from me doesn't automatically mean that he can be brought back, Harry. Many people have gone through that veil, and as far as I know nobody ever came back. Nobody. If there was a way to bring him back I would try it immediately, but I simply don't see how. And nobody else does, either."

A feeling of raw anger as Harry had hardly ever felt it before surged up inside of him. How could Remus simply give up like that? Why didn't he even seem to try and find a way to help and bring Sirius back?

"So you've just said you'd even give your life if it brought him back, but when it comes to actually trying it you chicken out? Maybe you should go visit your old friend Wormtail, the two of you seem to share a similar definition of the word 'friendship'."

Something twitched in Remus' arm and for a moment Harry thought that his otherwise ever-composed former teacher would strike him. Instead, wrung his hands and started pacing angrily at the foot end of the bed.

"Never again talk about things you don't know anything about, Harry! If you know what's good for you, you'll never say that again! I can bear much, but at the moment I have reached my limit and I can't take insults from a sulking teenager who knows nothing of what is going on! Have you just for one moment tried to think about what I might be feeling like right now? Would you like to be in the situation to be the only link your best friend has to life? Do you think I slept well for the past two nights? Let me tell you that I didn't.

But what choices do I have, Harry? I know no way to bring Sirius back from wherever he is, and if our connection is not severed soon then I won't have very long to live left. Then we will _both_ be dead. Don't you think we are trying to find a way other than severing the connection? But what chance do we have if Albus, Severus and I can't come up with one? In case you had not noticed, there is a war starting out there and there are neither enough people, nor do those who are there have enough time to do a thorough research. And that is why it has to be done, Harry.

We are looking into it, but if those seizures get as much worse as I think they will, then I will do what has to be done, immediately. There is not much leeway we can work in at the moment. A few days, hardly more. That's what I came here to tell you, I thought you had a right to know. I only hope you can understand the reasons for my decision, Harry. Merlin knows I want Sirius back, but if there is no way I don't think it would be helpful if I died as well. Not if I can still do some good in this war. I'm sorry, Harry."

With a last regretful look at Harry Remus silently opened the door and left the room again. Harry sat on the bed in stunned silence. He wished he could be angry with Remus, wished he could be as furious as he thought he should be at the moment. But he had seen Remus' expression of pure anguish, he had seen the tears roll down his face as he had spoken.

For a moment Harry tried to think what it would be like to decide about one's best friend's life. What would he feel like if he was in Remus' situation and it was Ron who had fallen behind the veil? Harry didn't even want to pursue that line of thought. He thought he could never make a decision that would harm or even kill his best friend. But was that true?

Wasn't Remus right and it was better to cut the connection with Sirius before it cost Remus' life as well? Harry didn't want to see Remus harmed or dead, but the hope that his godfather could be brought back had been the only good thing that had happened to him during the past months, and he had so willingly clung to it that it was hard to let go of that thought now.

If he was honest with himself, Harry had already seen Sirius climb back out from behind the veil, laughing his bark-like laugh and being just the way Harry knew him. He had put his hopes too high and now he had to see them get smashed again, that was why it was so hard for him to accept Remus' decision.

With a sigh, Harry got up from his bed and left the room to search for Remus.

He didn't have to search long, it was as if he had known that his former teacher would be drawn to the room that had been his office for one glorious year. Harry had many bad memories of the Defence Against the Dark Arts office from last year when Dolores Umbridge had taught at Hogwarts, but at the moment he didn't think about that at all. For a moment he watched Remus stand next to the window, looking out onto the grounds with an unreadable expression on his face. He had wiped away the tear-tracks and his face was impassive as ever, but nothing in his posture reminded Harry of the strong and powerful man he had gotten Remus Lupin to know as. Right now he only looked defeated and worried, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, and on his shoulders alone.

Harry knocked and Remus turned towards him. His expression didn't change, but he also made no move to start a conversation of his own. Harry nervously bit his lip for a moment, then he made a tentative step into the office. Other than a raised eyebrow, Remus gave no indication that he even acknowledged his presence in the room.

"Remus, I…I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I really am. I shouldn't have gotten angry with you. You are right, I don't really know what you're going through. It's just…I want this so much, Remus. I want him back so badly, I can't imagine that there is no other way…"

Remus smiled sympathetically and made a step towards Harry.

"I'm not angry, Harry. I'm just a bit short-tempered at the moment, sorry if I yelled at you."

He was at Harry's side now and gently placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder. Harry bit back a sob.

"I just want him back, Remus."  
"I know."

Uncharacteristically unreserved, Remus wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him close in a tight hug, one hand holding Harry's head against his shoulder. "I want him back as well, Harry. He was my friend, I loved him as well."

Harry silently nodded into Remus' shoulder, not saying anything in response. If possible, his sobs grew even more intense as he realized that Remus was right. Both of them had loved Sirius, but that he had never actually had the possibility to tell his godfather that. He had never told Sirius that he loved him, that he cared for him and was glad that Sirius had come into his life, despite all the problems that had kept them apart. And now he would not get another chance.

For a moment Remus held onto the shaking teenager, at a complete loss as to what else to say. There were no adequate words to describe what he was feeling. It had been a glorious moment of hope when they had discovered that Sirius was still connected to them by a thin thread. Glorious, yes - but short lived. If he was honest with himself, Remus had already thought about how it would be when Sirius was back with them, only to have his hopes smashed again. Maybe it was even harder this way. To know and to accept that Sirius was dead had been hard enough. To know now that he was - well, not _really_ dead for a lack of a better description - made letting go of him even more difficult. Did he really have the right to make that decision? Did he have the right to cut Sirius off? Didn't he owe it to Harry and to himself to try anything that was in his power to save his friend?

But no matter how hard he tried, he simply could not find any words to tell Harry how he was feeling about all this, he only hoped the teenager would understand. He only hoped that Harry would forgive him for what he was about to do.

Remus gave Harry another moment to collect himself, knowing that it would only embarrass him further if he openly showed that he had realized how heavily Harry had been crying. And indeed Harry pulled himself together again very quickly, wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his robe and pulled back from Remus. He tried to give the older man a smile, but it was a forced one.

"I'm sorry. You have enough to worry about right now, you surely don't need my moods to top it all."

Remus smiled back in what he hoped was a reassuring way, but he instantly knew that this time he had not managed.

"Nothing to be sorry for, all right? Merlin knows that if one person knows how bad you feel at the moment, it's me."

Harry made a tentative step towards the door, but stopped himself from walking out as if there was something he wanted to say before he left. Remus just watched him, giving him the time he needed to collect his thoughts. After maybe a minute, Harry cast his eyes to the floor and bit his lip.

"I just wanted to say…about earlier, I mean. It's…I might not be able to understand how hard this is for you, but I understand that it's your decision to make and not mine. I know you don't need my agreement or anything, but I just want to tell you that whatever you decide, it's okay."

Harry didn't take his eyes from the floor and thus didn't see the sad smile on Remus' face.

"No Harry, it's not okay. And it probably never will be. You know that just as well as I do. But sometimes life is just like that, sometimes there is no good alternative when you have to make a choice. I'm trying to make the right choice, only I have never felt this helpless in my entire life before. I don't know if it's the right choice, I only hope I will be able to live with it."

Harry nodded again, still not raising his head to meet Remus' eyes. Remus only hoped that one day Harry would be able to look at him again, but he would not begrudge him if he couldn't. He himself didn't know yet if he would be able to live with what he was about to do.

Harry shuffled around uncomfortably for a bit, then he seemed to have found a line of thought that brought him back into safer waters.

"I think I'll head up into the library for a bit. I still got some summer assignments to do before term starts."

"Yes, might be better, if only for Hermione's peace of mind."

Harry smiled shakily and turned to leave the office. Remus watched him go, knowing fully well that Harry would not spend one single moment in the library with his homework. But he didn't mind that little white lie, he only wished he could share the teenager's optimism that there was still the time to find a way to bring Sirius back.


	27. The Necromancer

Just a short explanation as there was a question about it: DMLE means Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I _think_ it is an expression used in the books, yet I'm not entirely sure about it. But basically, it is what it says: wizarding law enforcement. I don't use overly many abbreviations, yet this is one I use quite often as it is quite tiring to write the whole thing each time. Hope this clears up the confusion. On to the chapter.

**Chapter 27 – The Necromancer**

Harry remained in the library for the entire afternoon. Over and over again, he worked his way through all the books about Necromancy he could lay his hands on. But no matter how much he read about it, he didn't have the feeling that he was getting any further. He gathered knowledge about what Necromancy was, all right, and the more he learned the more he got convinced that the solution to the problem of how Sirius was to be brought back was to be found somewhere relating to all this. He had the feeling that the solution was there, right in front of him, and that he was only too blind to see it. And that feeling was slowly driving him mad.

With a loud sigh, Harry closed the book he had been reading in and leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes drift across the room. A number of books from the restricted section of the library were lying in front of him, everything he had found that seemed to be dealing with Necromancy and ways to bring back the dead. As always when Harry doubted whether he was truly on the right track, he simply allowed his thoughts to drift off. Mostly, they quickly turned towards how much he missed Sirius and that he owed it to his godfather to pursue every line of thought that suggested a chance to bring him back. It simply had to be the right way, throughout his entire researches Harry had not noticed anything else that sounded this promising.

Absent-mindly he picked up his quill and started to doodle on the parchment with notes in front of him. He desperately needed to sort through his thoughts, and he needed a distraction from his brooding about those ancient books. His eyes caught on the cover of the book he had just closed – _The Secrets of a Hidden Art: Potentials and Dangers of the Cursed Bloodlines in the Wizarding World_. The only reason why he had found it at all in the restricted section was the symbol on its spine and cover, a symbol Harry had seen often before since he researched Necromancy. He had immediately recognized it as he had browsed the shelf for another book and had taken it out to have a closer look at its contents. Now, as he allowed his thoughts to drift through everything he had learned, his right hand automatically doodled a copy of the symbol from the cover onto his parchment. He didn't need to focus very much on it, it was a simple enough symbol – a pentagram in a double circle, the tips of the pentagram's five points touching the outer circle while the inner circle was interrupted whenever the line crossed one of the five points. The space between the two circles was filled with a deep red colour, so that it gave the impression that the pentagram was framed with a deep red band. In the pentagon which the lines of the pentagram created, another small pentagram had been painted, this one filled out with black ink so that the lines o this pentagram could not be seen and it appeared like a black, five-pointed star. Harry had seen quite a number of pentagrams during his time of studying magical books, but never quite that design. The _Encyclopaedia Magica_ had shown this symbol in the article about Necromancy, leading Harry to research it. In the Middle Ages, this symbol had been used to brand the families in whose bloodline the doubtful talent for Necromancy ran. It had appeared on all documents that concerned those families, making it obvious to everybody who had business with those families just whom they were dealing with. But during the late Middle Ages, this had changed. The wizarding world's view on Necromancy had not changed, but the early Goblin Wars had thrown the wizarding societies all over Europe into a turmoil in which Necromancers had been their smallest problems. During a period of nearly two generations during which their whole society had been turned upside down more than once by different conflicts, the Necromantic bloodlines had moved from the spotlight of public interest to become forgotten. Documents had vanished in fires or had been deliberately destroyed in physically violent excesses of those rebellions. Most wizards and witches knew that there were those with the talent to raise the dead, but as there weren't any names or faces to connect this dreaded ability with, Necromancers became a faceless whisper, a thing to threaten children with and a thing about which the older generation spoke in hushed and fearful voices.

But the families who had been shunned for their inborn ability to cross the line between life and death kept their secret as well as their knowledge to themselves. Some wizards and witches tried to use their gift, with differently dreadful results, and some saw it as a curse which was best kept hidden and suppressed. But those who were not willing to submit to the public fear of what they were turned to the only ones who could understand what they were struggling with – the people who had the same talent running through their veins. Necromancers in general were never very apt about telling others what they were, but they were willing to share their fate amongst themselves. Over the years, contacts were established and secret societies were formed. Most of those took it as their first step to change the meaning of the symbol that had once branded them into a symbol they used at free will, to recognize those who had to suffer from the same gift.

Even today, not much was known about which wizarding bloodlines carried the talent to raise the dead from generation to generation, the only ones who knew for sure were the Necromancers themselves, and only those who were willing to share their dark secrets. The only thing that was publicly known was that it was a rare gift that was spread amongst the oldest of the wizarding families, and that it was a talent that could be dormant for generations before revealing itself again. Even then, a Necromancer required training to perform the rites necessary to raise the dead, and not even a Necromancer could cross the border into the netherworld under any circumstances. There were many misconceptions about Necromancy, and Harry was aware of the fact that this entire history of hiding, persecuting and prejudice didn't exactly make his task of finding out how Sirius could be brought back any easier. But he simply had to try.

With a sigh, Harry put the quill down and focused his eyes on the parchment. Using the black and red ink he used to make notes and to underline important points, he had drawn quite a good copy of the pentagram-symbol that was the front cover of the book. So far, so good, but artistic moments would not bring him much farther in his researches. Harry shook his head, got up to open up a window and let in some fresh air, then he set back down and opened the book again. Enough break for this afternoon, now he had work that needed to get done.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus didn't see much of Harry for the remaining day. As usual, the teenager was in the library and only came back when it was time for dinner. Remus had the strong suspicion that he would have stayed in the library all night had it not been for his Occlumency lesson with Severus Snape at eight. The teenager was obviously still convinced that Sirius could be brought back, and with everything that was being set into motion right now, time was running out for him. Not that Remus could not sympathize with what Harry was doing, but he feared that it might hurt him even more to lose Sirius under those circumstances. Dealing with what was about to happen would be hard enough, it would be even harder if Harry blamed himself for not finding another solution in time.

Dinner was a relatively silent affair. After their talk earlier in the afternoon, Remus felt the tension between him and Harry not as strongly anymore, but it was still there. No small wonder, after the decision Remus was about to make. He was the one who would ultimately decide to sever the connection with Sirius, Remus could understand that Harry was not exactly having warm thoughts about that.

Harry left quickly after dinner, mumbling something about not wanting to be late, and then he was gone. Remus sighed and stacked their empty plates onto a tray for the house-elves to clean away. As he did so, his eyes fell onto the stack of parchments Harry had brought down from the library before dinner. It wasn't his style to pry into other people's affairs, but something in Harry's notes caught his eye. He turned to throw a closer look at the parchments, and his blood turned to ice. If he had only known what Harry was working on in the library…

The parchment was filled with Harry's scrawl, looking as if the notes had been made in haste.

_Necromancy __à__ how does it apply to Sirius – not really dead!_

_requirements__ for necromantic rite – what about Sirius' body?_

_Connection between the archway and ritualistic resurrection?__ What is behind the veil?_

_Need: Book which describes necromantic rite and its requirements in detail – restricted section?_

Remus tore his eyes away and heavily sat down in the nearest chair. Necromancy. Harry was taking this more serious than he had thought the teenager would. Far too serious. It was one thing to research the archway and blood bonds, that was what Remus had suspected Harry to be doing. But it was another thing entirely to think about Necromancy. Those were powers Harry would hopefully never be able to yield, and Remus was worried that he had already researched far too much about it than was good for a boy of his age. He would have to talk to Harry about it, and quickly. No matter if he thought that Remus had been snooping around in his things, but Harry needed to let go of that ridiculous thought. Immediately.

Ten minutes later, Remus was still sitting in his chair, contemplating that ridiculous thought. Of course he would not want Harry to be involved into anything that had to do with Necromancy, but the more he thought about the idea…

Remus got up and fetched Harry's notes from the table. It was not everything there was to know about Necromancy, but it was a start. Maybe he'd stumble across something which would convince him that it was impossible to bring Sirius back, but before he completely pushed that thought aside, he needed to make sure. In his momentary situation, he simply needed to be sure before he ruled out a possibility.

Another half an hour later, Remus put Harry's notes back onto the table and left the room, heading up to the library. Contrary to Harry, he knew which books he had to look into the get the proper information quickly and without lengthy researches. And depending on what he would find, he'd have to make another tour to the dungeons later this evening.

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In the end, it was quarter past ten the next evening when Remus knocked on the door to Severus Snape's private workroom. He was not overly worried that the potions master was not there, or already asleep in his private rooms, his biggest worry was that he would disturb him during something he considered important. If that was the case, then Severus would be unbearable. But he was worried about a lot of other things, things that had barely let him sleep the previous night. His research in the library had been confusing for him, to say the least. He now had a picture of things that was a lot clearer than before. He could understand why Harry had pursued that thread with such a stubbornness, but there were still far too many unanswered questions. And far too many possible consequences, most of which were not only pleasant. There was only one person who could tell Remus whether he was pursuing a hopeless train of thought, and this person was separated from Remus by the door he was standing in front of.

"Enter!"

It didn't sound overly angry – at least not yet. Remus steeled himself with a last deep breath, then he opened the door and entered the workroom. Snape didn't have a potion boiling, that at least was something. Disturbing him while he was brewing a potion was the worst thing somebody could do if they didn't want to enrage the man's temper. But instead of brewing a potion, Snape was sitting behind his desk, a cup of tea beside him and a stack of parchments in front of him. He looked up as Remus entered, and almost immediately his face fell and he rolled his eyes.

"Lupin, what is it this time?"

"Good evening, Severus", Remus said as pleasantly as he could, and sat down in the chair in front of Snape's desk. The other man was still glaring at him, but Remus had learned over the years how to best ignore that.

"What is it?", Snape repeated, less patient this time. Remus crossed his legs and scratched his chin for a moment before he answered.

"It's a bit difficult to explain."

Snape sighed a martyr's sigh and put his parchments into one of the desk drawers. "Listen Lupin, just get out of my office, and as soon as you know what it was that you wanted, you write it down and send me an owl. I might even read it before I throw it into the fire."

"The world should consider itself lucky that you didn't chose a career as a comedian, Severus. I promise that as soon as this whole affair is over, you will not have to see me for a long time, outside of the Order. But for now, there is something I need to know. Something that concerns my connection to Sirius."

Snape leaned back in his chair. "I thought Albus had told you that we'd discuss the details of the procedure as soon as you've made a definite decision."

The _procedure_. Snape was talking about cutting Sirius off from his last connection with the world of the living as the _procedure_. And to him it wasn't more. Not that Remus blamed him, but for him it was so much more than merely a procedure. So much more.

"I'm not talking about the…about what we might be going to do. Not tonight. In fact, I wanted to talk about something else."

"And what would that be? Contrary to popular beliefs, I have not stolen my time, Lupin. I have things to do."

"I won't keep you long. But there is something I might need your help with, considering that you have a more…ah, more personal insight into the topic than I have."

"Which topic?"

"Necromancy", Remus said, his voice level. Snape's expression did not change at first, but he paled rapidly before a distinctly irate red colour began rising to his ashen complexion. In his eyes, however, a scorching rage was smouldering, and his gaze was turned on Remus.

"Out."  
Remus shook his head. "No, Severus. Let us talk about this like the adults that we are. I didn't suggest anything, I only need your expertise to understand why Necromancy has to be ruled out as a possibility to bring Sirius back."

At that, Snape actually sneered at Remus, something that Remus knew not to be a good sign. But still he didn't say anything and rather waited for his former classmate to say something. He didn't really know how to deal with this reaction, he wanted to know why exactly Snape was grinning like that before he started to defend himself.

"First Potter, now you, if that's not an interesting thing."

"What do you mean Severus?"

Snape chuckled hoarsely and got up from his chair, looking at Remus for a long moment before he turned towards his bookshelf. He walked up and down in front of it for a moment, pretending to be absolutely absorbed in the titles of the books that stood there, just as if he saw them for the first time. If he wanted to wear down Remus' patience with that, however, he was wasting his time. Remus Lupin was a very patient man. Finally, Snape turned around and looked Remus straight in the eye.

"What I mean, Lupin, is that first I have to listen to Potter's mindless ramble about how he would do _anything_ to bring his beloved godfather back and how he knows exactly that I can help him, and now you as well seem to have fallen for the delusion that Black can be brought back from where he is. Not to mention that both of you seem so convinced that he'd be worth the effort even _if_ it was possible. A very amusing scenario, I have to admit."

Remus made a mental note to talk to Harry about this as soon as he found the time. As much as he could understand that Harry was desperately searching for a possibility to bring his godfather back, but the thought that the sixteen year old was actively trying to persuade his least favourite teacher to help him was worrying Remus quite a bit. Researching Necromancy was bad enough, but asking Snape about it…But there would be a time for that later, not now.

"What I do here has nothing to do with Harry, Severus. And though I don't know what he told you, I can imagine that he didn't really know how to bring Sirius back. I know that he desperately wants it, but he is too young to actually know how it can be done, if it can be done."

Snape sneered again, and no matter how often Remus had seen this expression before, he could not help but shiver slightly as he thought of the magical potential that was hidden beneath Snape's arrogant mask. Not to mention the fact that if it came to the crush, this man could very well be the only one standing between the Order and Voldemort, the one person who could decide the war. Severus Snape had walked on a very thin line between trust and betrayal for the past decades, unbeknownst to most of the people around him, and Remus knew very well how dangerous it could be to dismiss him as nothing more than a sourly potions brewer. There was a huge potential hidden under Snape's surface, a potential the redeemed Death Eater tried to suppress as much as possible, because he knew of its dangers. Unfortunately, what Remus would ask of him might demand that he unfolded that dark family heritage he carried to its peak. And Remus was sure Snape would not willingly agree to that, much persuasion would be needed, if it was possible at all.

"But it can't be done, Lupin."

Now it was Remus' turn to sneer slightly, though he could try as much as he wanted, on his face it always kept a somewhat friendly quality.

"Maybe there you are mistaken, Severus."

Remus saw what little colour remained on Snape's face drain and he knew that he had hit a nerve with what he had said. He knew that Snape was intelligent enough to make the remaining connections on his own.

"No." Snape pressed out from between clenched jaws, the hands at his sides balled into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "The answer is no, and if you dare to approach me one more time with this nonsense I will get very unfriendly."

But Remus did not stop there.

"You know that it could work, Severus. And do you really want to deny us that possibility? Are you really willing to dismiss that thought if it could help us win this war?"

"Black has absolutely no meaning for the outcome of this war!" Snape was shouting so loud that Remus actually flinched slightly. The tall head of Slytherin house slammed his hands on the tabletop for emphasis and did not take his eyes off Remus, boring his black gaze deep into Remus' amber one. But Remus did not back down under that gaze. He had already lost too much, he had too few hopes left to give up on them now.

"He hasn't? If you really think that you are badly mistaken. You have seen Harry lately, you have spoken to him. For Merlin's sake, you even entered his mind on a regular basis for the past days! Didn't you take a closer look at what's going on with him, just this once? Because if you had, even you should have realized what it has done to him to see Sirius fall through that veil. Maybe you are right and Sirius is not meant to actually play a role in the outcome of this war, but you can't deny that Harry undoubtedly will. And Harry has lost what little faith he had with Sirius' death.

Severus, you might not understand it, but for once try to see it from Harry's point of view. He is a teenager who was just recently told that he is supposed to rid the wizarding world of its incarnation of evil because otherwise he'll get killed and our world is lost. A world which Harry didn't even knew existed until five years ago! Harry doesn't trust easily, especially in adults, and he never had a parental figure he could look up to in his life. No, let me finish for once!"

Snape abruptly closed his mouth again which he had opened in an attempt to disagree. He was not used to somebody snapping at him in that manner, not the otherwise so bloody polite and well-mannered werewolf, so surprised was he about that outburst that he closed his mouth again.

"I know you cannot understand why, but Harry decided to trust Sirius. He trusted him and put all his hopes of maybe one day having a family into Sirius, and Sirius _alone_. And then he has to see him fall through that blasted archway in an attempt to rescue him, and the next thing he knows is that everybody tells him Sirius is dead.

Severus, Harry is _devastated_ by losing the one person he considered his family. Not devastated enough to try and take his own life as we thought, but devastated enough to lose his hope. Harry doesn't believe in us winning this war anymore, he doesn't see the sense in him fighting against Voldemort because he doesn't know what he is supposed to fight for. What's left for him even if we win? He won't have another family except from Lily's muggle sister. You and I know that there are a lot of reasons to continue this fight, but Harry just doesn't see them. Can't see them at the moment. And please tell me what chances we have of winning this war if Harry has already given up?"

Snape shook his head as if he was trying to block Remus' speech out.

"Listen Lupin, I don't know why you are telling me this. You might not be able to imagine it because you as well as the rest of the wizarding world are prone to mollycoddling Potter, but I'm not the least interested in his emotional welfare!"

"Even if the outcome of this war depends on it?"

Snape was breathing harshly for a moment, his gaze straying through the room as if he was searching for something to say. Then he shook his head again.

"All right, let's just assume for one moment that I would acknowledge Potter's…_emotional distress_ as important for the outcome of the war. Which – in my humble opinion – doesn't change anything about the fact that Black would be the least suited person for the job of being a role-model and a guidance for Potter, but let's put that insignificant objection aside for the moment. That still does not change the fact that what you are suggesting here is not only highly illegal but also completely impossible!"

"It is not impossible, and I never got to know you as a person who cared about what was legal and what not."

Remus was surprised to hear Snape actually laugh at that. Whatever reaction he had expected, it definitely had not been a sudden burst of hilarity.

"I should have known. Even with all your friends dead or lost you keep up that 'once a Marauder, always a Marauder' attitude, don't you? I had thought that by now you would have realized that the real world works a bit different than the dreams of a careless group of childhood friends. Some people have something to lose, Lupin, and I for one won't risk going to Azkaban just to try and bring Black back. That prize would be too high. Hell, a _nosebleed_ would be too high a prize to attempt and bring Black back from the dead!"

"But you have to admit that it could be possible. Don't treat me like one of your students, I know what I'm talking about. You would do not to forget sometimes that I'm not completely incompetent when it comes to those topics."

The sneer was back promptly and full force. "Of course a Dark Creature would know about Dark Arts, Lupin. I didn't expect anything else."

"That was a low blow, even for you. And not one with which you will get me this time. You still didn't answer my question, and I can't get rid of the feeling that it's because you'd rather bite your tongue off than to agree with me. Sirius can be brought back, and you know that it's possible."

"For Merlin's sake Lupin, just listen to what you are saying for once!" If possible, Snape's expression had turned more angry than any student at Hogwarts had ever seen him. He was pacing behind his desk now, throwing angry glances at Remus every other moment. Remus, on the other hand, sat on the other side of Snape's desk and watched the man calmly. That probably infuriated Snape even more.

"We're talking about Necromancy here! Finally call it by its name and stop beating about the bush. What you want to attempt is Necromancy, you want to try and bring somebody back from the dead! Not only that this is extremely dangerous, it is also - as I already pointed out - illegal! Our law does not allow resurrection, and that has its reasons! Do you even know what the outcome of such an attempt could be if it went wrong? And it will most probably go wrong, because you will have to do it on your own. I won't do anything to help you with such an idiocy."

"It won't go wrong", Remus replied calmly, following every of Snape's movement with his eyes. "Don't you think I spent some thoughts on this? Try to abstract it Severus, just a little exercise of mind, on a completely theoretical basis. What does a necromantic rite require?"

"Lupin, I neither have the time nor am I in the mood to partake in one of your quizzes. I would advise you to save them for your students, alas, you no longer are a teacher so I would advise you to just shut the hell up."

Remus did not let show how much the remark about his lost professor-position stung, especially since it had been Snape who had indirectly cost him that position, instead he continued with his face trained into a façade of calm which he had brought to perfection over the years.

"Then let us shorten this. And correct me if I'm wrong, but to successfully perform a necromantic rite, you need either the body of the deceased or, if that cannot be done, you have to create some sort of channel towards the…let's call it _netherworld_ for the moment. Furthermore, an emotional connection to the deceased is a not necessary condition, but it helps immensely for the success of such a rite. And finally – most importantly - you need a Necromancer who, in simple terms, knows how to work a necromantic rite. Am I correct?"

Snape merely glared at Remus but the werewolf decided to take that as a yes rather than anything else. He flashed a short, slightly triumphant smile at Snape, knowing that he would not be able to deny the logic of his next line of thought.

"We have all that. Well, we don't have Sirius' body, obviously, but there is no need to put any energy into creating a portal or channel of sorts through which to bring him back. It's already there, has been for decades. The archway is a constantly open portal, and nothing tells me we can't use it for that purpose. Furthermore, there is an extremely strong connection between Sirius and me, one of the closest magical bonds that exist. We have two people - Harry and me, though I don't want Harry involved in this - who are willing to do anything to bring Sirius back. And we have somebody who has the inborn abilities to just do that."

"It's illegal", Snape repeated, obviously not convinced by Remus' reasoning. But Remus only shook his head.

"It is not, because Sirius is not dead. He might have fallen though that archway, and normally I'd know that this would mean his death. But if Sirius was dead, then he would not still be drawing strength from me, then our bond would have vanished by now. And I have not heard of a law that forbids performing Necromancy in the case of somebody who is not dead."

Snape didn't react immediately, and because Remus knew that the other man normally was a sharp and fast thinker, he realized that he had hit a nerve with what he had said. After what seemed like an endless stretch of time he finally sat down in his chair again and cocked his head slightly to the side.

"Fine, I _might_ be willing to admit that Black is not dead - unfortunate as that might seem to the more clear-minded people in this room. But that does not automatically mean that he can be brought back, especially not with magic which was designed to bring back the dead. Because you just wasted a lot of precious breath in explaining that he is certainly not dead, then what good would my skills at Necromancy do?"

"Don't try to outtalk me with petty little details…"

"If you don't mind those 'petty little details', then your attempt is already doomed to fail, Lupin!", Snape roared. "Those 'petty little details' are the most important thing where such a complicated magic is concerned."

"What I wanted to say is that I am convinced it doesn't matter in this case. The situation is the same as if Sirius had died, and you as well as I know that he will be dead in a very short time if we don't do anything. But he isn't dead, though the place from which he has to be brought back is the same as if he was dead. The risk is lower, the chances to succeed are better, even you have to admit it."

Strangely, Snape didn't answer immediately. He looked at Remus for a very long time and his expression lacked most of its usual hostility. Instead, Remus had the impression that there was a certain notion of interest in the Slytherin's gaze. Eventually, Snape spoke, and it was not what Remus had expected to hear.

"So what you are saying is that you are convinced it will work?"

Again, there was neither hostility nor doubt in his voice and slowly Remus was getting unnerved by this completely unusual behaviour.

"If you help us. Or rather, if you help _me_, because I wouldn't want Harry involved in this. But yes, I think it will work."

"And you are aware that - in case it actually _does_ work - it could be possible that Black is not the same that he was before he fell through the archway? Are you aware that we're talking about manipulating death here? What you want to attempt is meddling with forces so strong that even the Dark Lord had his hesitations in using them?"

Remus nodded.

"Yes. But I am convinced that because Sirius is not dead the situation is slightly different, especially concerning that problem."

Snape raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, he continued his strange interrogation.

"And you are willing to sacrifice yourself for this. You know what happens in case you get caught, don't you? Are you really willing to bear those consequences?"

Remus caught Snape's gaze and looked him square in the eye, unblinking.

"If I can manage to bring Sirius back with this, I am more than willing to go to Azkaban for it, yes."

"Even if you managed to bring back his body, and nothing more? Even if you bring back an empty shell, or Black's body carrying a mind and soul which could not be any more different from the man you call your friend? Are you willing to take the risks even under those circumstances?"

The question took Remus aback a little, and he couldn't answer immediately. Remus would have expected another sneer or one of Snape's sour grimaces at this, but instead the other man only shook his head.

"I have one piece of advice for you, though I know that you won't take it anyway. But maybe it would be better for Potter, for yourself as well as for the Order and the outcome of this war if you finally stopped thinking that Black was so much better than you. He was no saint, he was - in my opinion - not even a very good person, and Merlin only knows what influence he would have had on our cause if he had stayed alive. Accept that Black is dead and try to bring your mind to the present, because if you had paid any attention to what is going on in the real world you would know that the Order needs every person we can get. It surely has a reason why Black fell through that archway and you are still alive, and if you would not sit here and steal my time I could better use it to find a way to let it remain that way, just like Albus asked me to do. If I were you I would not try to change the course of things.

And now, if you please, stop bothering me with your hopeless attempts to piece your life back together. I've got work to do."

And without as much as another glance at Remus Snape got up from his chair, left his office and went into the workroom. Remus leaned back in his chair and let his head drop backwards. He closed his eyes with a weary sigh and remained in this position for long minutes, allowing his thoughts to simply drift to and fro in his mind. He had not really expected Snape to help him with the plan that had been forming in his mind for the past two days. But he had hoped that this conversation would help him to discover the flaws of his plan, would make him see the things that he in his hope to bring back his friend had not allowed himself to see. But if anything, the past minutes had told him clearly just how many flaws there were. Remus was ready and willing to attempt even something illegal and dangerous to bring Sirius back, and he had not lied to Severus when he had said that he'd even accept going to Azkaban as a consequence, but those were probably too many things that could possibly go wrong. If he accepted Necromancy as a possible solution, he had to be absolutely sure that it would work. And right now, he was anything but sure about it. He didn't particularly care about what happened to himself, but the danger for everybody else involved was simply too big.


	28. Remembering The World Outside

**Chapter 28 – Remembering the World Outside **

Harry didn't know about Remus' conversation with Snape. He didn't know that Remus had been researching Necromancy, either. Actually, the teenager was convinced that his former teacher had given Sirius up already, and the fear that Remus and Professor Dumbledore would do something to cut the connection to Sirius soon drove him into frantic research. He had quickly forgotten about Snape's warning concerning what he was about to do.

Harry knew a couple of things about Necromancy now. He knew that it was a branch of magic designed to bring back the dead. It had been outlawed nearly two centuries before, but that didn't mean that nobody had tried to perform it ever since. On the contrary, attempts at performing necromantic rites could be found in any time Harry had looked into, though most of them had failed. Because, and that was Harry's biggest problem about the whole thing, one needed to be a Necromancer to perform such a rite. And a talent for Necromancy was not something that could be learned, but could only be inherited. Harry was fairly sure that he didn't have that talent, but knowing as little as he actually did about his family, it was not impossible. That was something he'd still have to look into.

Even if Necromancy had been designed to bring back the dead, a state which could not exactly applied to Sirius right now because he was still connected to the world of the living, Harry was convinced that if there was a way to bring Sirius back, this was it. Sirius might not be really dead, but it was only his connection to Remus responsible for that, so if there was a way to bring him back, it had been a way that was cut out to bring back the dead.

Through his thorough research, Harry was also painfully aware of what he was lacking. If he could truly attempt to bring Sirius back, then he needed to get back into the Ministry of Magic. Worse, he needed to get back into the Department of Mysteries. All the books he had read spoke of performing the rite with the body of the deceased. Harry didn't exactly know what had happened to Sirius' body after he had fallen through the veil, and he hadn't been able to find out more in any of the books he had leafed through for information about the archway. But in all honesty, Harry didn't know if he'd have dared to dig up Sirius' body on a graveyard, anyway. If he now didn't have a body to perform the rite with, then the next possible thing that came to his mind was to return to the archway.

Getting into the Department of Mysteries was one thing, and not an easy one. But even more difficult would be the performance of the rite as such. The books Harry had read gave a general description of what such a rite was all about, but nowhere he had been able to find a book that contained a detailed description of such a rite. There was such a book, such guidelines, Harry had found them mentioned more than once in the literature he had used. The problem about it was that this obviously was not a book which could be found in an ordinary library or bookstore. Rather, Harry got the feeling that a detailed description on how to perform a necromantic rite was something that was passed along amongst those who had the talent for this branch of magic. It made sense. For one, nobody else would need such a detailed description. In addition to that, Harry had gathered by now that Necromancers were not exactly the kind of people to brag with their abilities. On the contrary, most of them tried to keep it a secret to prevent being publicly shunned for what they were. It seemed that Necromancers didn't have a much better standing in wizarding society than for example werewolves, though for different reasons. The talent to raise the dead, though not under just about any circumstances, didn't only hold a certain fascination for other people, it also caused fear. So those who had the talent for Necromancy mostly did everything to keep it from becoming public knowledge. But if Harry wanted to have only a slight chance to succeed despite his not being a Necromancer, the least he needed was such a detailed description. And for that he needed help.

Snape would not offer him that help, that much had become obvious the previous evening. Harry was sure that his professor knew more about Necromancy than he let on, but Harry had no idea how to extract that information from him. But there had to be books about that, there simply had to be. Not in the library, though, Harry had spent a couple of hours there in search of it. Professor Dumbledore might have one, or know where to find one, but if he did, there was no way for Harry to get to it. He could hardly sneak into the headmaster's office and take it, his journey would be over in front of the stone gargoyle already. And even if he managed, Dumbledore would know. Somehow, Dumbledore would know.

He could sneak into Snape's workroom or his office, he knew that the man kept quite a number of books there. But that would feel like clutching the final straw. This was, after all, Snape. Harry might not like the man, but by now he knew that Snape was a thoroughly educated man, especially concerning the Dark Arts. With a shiver, he thought back on his strange conversation with the potions master after he had mentioned Necromancy. But that he knew about it in general terms didn't mean that he had any knowledge on the specifics. Most probably, he stored his most precious potions books in his office and nothing more, sneaking in there was not an option right now. It didn't promise any success, and Harry didn't have time to waste at the moment.

With a deep sigh, Harry took the few parchments he had brought to the library this morning and left the rooms. If he was already pondering over those things, he could as well do it in more comfortable surroundings. Five minutes later, he tickled the pear in the painting that marked the entrance to the kitchens. Harry hadn't eaten that much breakfast this morning, and he could do with a little snack right now.

It was Dobby who came to greet him, and after a few enthusiastic bows, the house elf only too gladly provided Harry with a huge glass of pumpkin juice and an enormous ham and cheese sandwich. Harry settled at one of the tables with his plate and unpacked his parchments again. He barely noticed that Dobby was still hovering beside him, sneaking the occasional glance at what he was working on. Instead, Harry took a sip of his juice, stared down at the parchment and began to brood.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

After dinner that evening, Harry spent another exhausting hour in Snape's office with his Occlumency lesson. Snape seemed to find out quickly that something else was on Harry's mind that day, and he used the teenager's distraction mercilessly. The only thing that was worse than the feeling that Snape could penetrate his mind more easily that evening were the man's snappy remarks. Snape didn't lose one word about the fact that Harry had already been able to stop him far more easily before, instead he treated him as if he was a particularly thick student who just couldn't understand a simple lesson.

Harry didn't like to be treated thusly, especially not by Snape, but this evening he had forced himself to remain silent. He knew that he had promised Remus to take his Occlumency lessons seriously, and normally he did, but today he only wanted to get out of Snape's office as quickly as possible. He needed to get back to his work, he knew that he still had a lot of researches to do, and far too little time to conduct them.

Before he went back into the library, however, he sat down in his dormitory with a quill and a piece of parchment and wrote a letter to Ron. He didn't particularly like to involve his best friend in something that was both, illegal and potentially dangerous, but somehow he needed to get into the Ministry of Magic. He'd figure out a way on his own there, but to get into the building, Harry needed Ron's help.

_Dear Ron,_

_how are things going? In case you're having a boring holiday, rest assured that things aren't overly exciting here, either. Add to that my nightly Occlumency sessions with the git, and you know what it's like. Remus collapsed again, twice, in case nobody has told you that before. I'm worried about him, but it seems as if there is nothing that can be done. Well, there is one thing, but I don't want to write about it in a letter. I need your help with something, but I'd rather talk to you about it in person. Do you think you can manage to fire-call me here? I'm in the common room every evening past nine._

_Say hi to Hermione for me in case she's back already, but please don't tell her that I'm planning something. I don't think she'd quite agree with what I'm about to do._

_Say hi to Ginny and the rest of your family from me,_

_Harry._

Harry re-read the letter twice, then came to the conclusion that he hadn't let anything slip which was not supposed to be in a letter which could either be intercepted or – probably even worse – read by somebody else than Ron. He was fairly sure that Hermione or Mrs. Weasley would suspect something if they read the secretive undertone in his letter. But he was also convinced that this letter would not tell anybody exactly what he was up to, so he took it up to the owlery to send it.

He knew that he was not supposed to send Hedwig to headquarters on a regular basis, as a white owl she was much to conspicuous, but this once would not be too much. Hedwig was sitting on a high beam in the owlery, but as Harry whistled and called for her, she gracefully spread her wings and descended towards him, landing on an old desk next to where Harry stood. She stretched out her leg, and Harry tied the parchment around it.

"Take this to Ron for me, will you? He's at Grimmauld Place. Try not to fly in broad daylight, and be careful. Good girl."

He gave her an owl-treat, and Hedwig affectionately nipped his finger before she spread her wings again and flew out of the window into the evening sky. Harry looked after her for some long moments, until he finally turned around and left the room, heading towards Gryffindor Tower.

As he entered the common room, he found Remus sitting in an armchair in front of the fireplace. He turned around as Harry entered the room, and the teenager had the feeling that his former teacher had been waiting for him.

"Hello Harry. How was your lesson?"

Harry shrugged and sank down on one of the sofas.

"All right. Well, I wasn't really focussed, I've already had better lessons this summer."

Remus nodded, his hands folded around a cup of hot chocolate.

"Could it be that you weren't exactly focussed because you had your researches in mind?"

Harry shrugged, but his eyes narrowed a bit.

"What do you mean?"

Remus put his cup down on the table beside the armchair and leaned forward, his folded hands placed on his knees.

"You left your notes on the table yesterday."

Harry immediately turned his head towards the table where he had put his notes the day before, just as if he could not believe what Remus had said.

"It isn't my style to pry", Remus continued. "But when I cleared away the dishes, they caught my eye. Or rather, one word caught my eye, and it alarmed me so much that I had a closer look at them. I think we need to talk about it."

"What do you mean?", Harry repeated, his voice a bit lower than earlier.

"I know that you've been researching Necromancy throughout the past days."

Harry nodded, not really knowing what to say. Remus remained calm, but he didn't take his eyes away from Harry.

"Harry, I might not know everything that is going on inside of you, but I know that you miss Sirius. You have every right to. And nothing speaks against your searching for a way to bring Sirius back. Merlin knows I'd be glad if there was an alternative to what we are planning to do. But Necromancy is a very dangerous thing, and not something I'd want to see you entangled in."

"Why?"

Remus looked down at his hands for a moment, then up at Harry again.

"It is illegal, for one. More importantly, because it is a dangerous thing to play around with. Necromancy is a branch of magic which promises immense power. Who would not like to have the power over life and death, who would not want to be able and bring back the ones who had to die far too early, and innocently? But it's nothing that can be easily yielded, Harry. The most powerful wizards had hesitations in using it, including Voldemort. Necromancy can unleash a lot of things that cannot be predicted or controlled. And only those with the inborn ability can perform it. It is nothing you should research with such an intensity, because it is no power you can use."

"But everything I read, it just sounded so…"

"Easy and promising?", Remus finished for him. "I know. But it isn't."

Harry turned and looked at his notes on the table, as if they could answer the questions in his mind. Finally, he shook his head and looked at Remus.

"I just don't know what to do, Remus."

Remus nodded. "I know, I feel the same. And helplessness is hard to deal with, it's a feeling that's driving you to cling to the most unlikely straws. But please keep in mind that this kind of magic is no solution, for nothing."

"But have you ever been feeling that you desperately have to do something? That you don't know what it is, but that there is something, and you simply have to find out what it is and do it?"

"Of course I know that feeling. That's why I understood your desire to research blood-bonds so well. You're afraid that time is running out for you, afraid that there is a way out of all of this and you find it too late. Maybe I should have seen that you put too many hopes into those researches. Harry, it's okay not to lose hope until there is definitely nothing to keep it alive anymore. It's okay to consider every possible way to make what you're hoping for come true. But not – under no circumstances – if that means crossing certain lines. When hope becomes so desperate that you're willing to consider doing something that in all actuality could cause more harm than good, then you're on the wrong track."

Harry sighed and nervously twisted his hands in his lap. He understood what Remus meant, yet he didn't know if Remus truly understood the _need_ Harry felt to something. Maybe his motivation was purely selfish, but he was not willing to throw away the small chance that he could one day have a family. None of Harry's understanding of family was based on experience, but he had always imagined this to be a crucial point of it – not giving up on each other, being there for each other and doing everything one could do to protect the other. To save the other. Sirius was all the family Harry had ever had, he simply could not give up on him. That would feel like betrayal.

He was torn out of his thoughts when Remus put a hand on his arm. When Harry looked up, he found himself at the receiving end of a very intense amber gaze.

"Promise me that you won't try to yield a power that would take far more from you than it might give. I know that you want Sirius back, but nothing is worth giving up yourself to the darkness."

Harry bit his lip, then he nodded.

"I promise."

"Good." Remus leaned back with a sigh, as if a weight had been taken off his chest. "Thank you, Harry."

They remained silent for some moments in growing uneasiness, then Harry got up and vanished up into his dormitory. Remus' words were still ringing in his ears. His former teacher couldn't know it, but he had used nearly the same words that Snape had said to him when he had asked about Necromancy. As he threw his parchments into his trunk and lay down on his bed, he allowed his thoughts to wander to the question whether he wasn't indeed following the wrong idea. He didn't particularly care about Snape, but Remus seemed really bothered by Harry's researching Necromancy. Harry had learned to trust Remus implicitly, but right now he was struggling between his faith in Remus' advice and his despair about bringing back his godfather. And yet he didn't know which of those feelings was stronger.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next morning, Harry awoke with a headache. He didn't exactly remember when he had fallen asleep last night, but it had been after a long time of brooding, which was probably why he felt like shit this morning. He still hadn't gotten past his dilemma, though. He still felt the nearly desperate need to bring Sirius back, and he was still convinced that there had to be a way to achieve it. Only, he was no longer really sure if he could pull this through.

After a long hot shower, Harry's headache had subsided a little and he felt better. When he descended into the common room, he was surprised to find Dobby bouncing up and down next to the table on which he had served breakfast. The house elf was normally not the calmest creature on earth, but this morning he seemed extraordinarily excited. And normally, he didn't wait for Harry to show up after he had served breakfast, if it was Dobby who served breakfast every morning, anyway. Harry had never actually seen which house elf brought up the food.

"Good morning, Dobby", Harry mumbled and sat down at the table. He wasn't particularly hungry, but now with Dobby standing right next to him, he'd at least pretend to eat something. he took a deep sip of the strong tea the house elf had prepared and reached for his plate.

"Good morning, Harry Potter", Dobby squealed excitedly. "Did master Potter sleep well?"

Harry shrugged and took a bite of scrambled eggs. "Not really", he answered after he had swallowed. "Why don't you sit down, Dobby?"

"Harry Potter is too kind to Dobby, sir. Harry Potter wants Dobby to sit down at his table while he eats!"

The house elf sat down on the chair Harry indicated, but he did not once stop his excited hopping. It looked weird to see this creature bouncing up and down on his chair, and just from watching him, Harry felt his headache rise again.

"Is there something wrong, Dobby? You seem quite excited today."

Dobby grinned a grin that was threatening to split his head in two. "Dobby thinks he can help master Harry Potter, if Harry Potter needs me to."

Harry frowned and pushed his plate away, taking another sip of his tea. "What do you mean?"

Dobby gestured towards the low table next to the sofa.

"Harry Potter forgot his parchments in the kitchens yesterday."

Harry looked over and indeed, there were his most recent notes on Necromancy. He didn't remember leaving them in the kitchens yesterday, but with his disastrous Occlumency lesson and his conversation with Remus later the evening, it was not really surprising that he had forgotten about them. But maybe he should clear the parchments away before Remus came into the common room and saw them. If there was anything Harry didn't need right now, then it was another serious conversation about whether or not what he was doing was good for him.

"Thank you, Dobby. I completely forgot about those papers."

Dobby grinned even wider, though Harry had thought that impossible up to that moment.

"When Harry Potter came to the kitchens yesterday, Dobby thought that Harry Potter was very interested in those papers."

Harry nodded. "Yes, they're quite important."

"Dobby thinks he can help master Harry Potter. When Harry Potter left and forgot his notes, Dobby saw something on them and read them."

Inwardly, Harry groaned. It was seemingly becoming habitual for other people to read his private papers, a development which he didn't exactly welcome.

"Dobby, it's kind of you to worry about my problems, but I don't think there is anything you can do about it. I myself don't really have an idea if what I'm doing there will lead to anything."

Dobby wordlessly hopped down from his chair and bounced over towards the table where he had put Harry's papers. He picked them up and carried them back to the breakfast table. With a snip of his fingers, Harry's plate disappeared back into the kitchens and he spread out the parchments in front of the teenager. After a slight bit of shifting through the parchments, he found one and put it on top of the stack.

"This was the first page when Harry Potter left the parchments in the kitchens."

Harry looked at it. It was the page he had been working on in the library before he had called a break to his researches and had gone down into the kitchens. It could very well be possible that it had been on top of the stack of papers when he had gone down into the kitchens, yet he failed to see the significance. He looked up at the house elf and frowned.

"That might be possible, Dobby, but I don't quite see what that's supposed to mean."

Dobby pointed one bony finger at the parchment.

"Dobby knows what this is."

Harry looked at what Dobby pointed at, and he started for a moment. The house elf had his finger pointed on the symbol of the pentagram which Harry had doodled on the parchment while he had been brooding.

"What do you mean, you have seen this before? On a book in the library? Because that's where I got it from."

Dobby shook his head fervently. "Not in the library, no. Dobby never is in the library, Mistress Pince has other elves do that. Dobby is mostly in the kitchens, or cleaning rooms and serving guests, never in the library, no."

"But then where have you seen it? I mean, there are a lot of pentagrams around here, you might have mistaken it with something else entirely."

"No, Dobby is sure that it was this same symbol. The red ring and the two pentagrams, one of them entirely black. Yes, Dobby is sure that it was the same symbol."

Harry's heart began beating faster against his ribcage. It could mean nothing, it could be another dead end, but somehow he had the feeling that whatever Dobby was going to tell him now was important for his researches. It made sense, somehow. The house elf had more access inside the castle that Harry had, it could be possible that he had found something that would be able to help him in his researches. After all, in the library there were only books which the teachers and Madam Pince thought were appropriate for the students, there surely had to be other places in the castle where the information Harry needed could be found.

"Where have you seen it?"

The house elf shrugged and hopped back up on his chair. "Dobby was cleaning. Normally, Dobby doesn't clean in that part of the castle, but this day I was ordered to help with the cleaning there. The cabinet was open, so Dobby thought he had to do cleaning there as well. It was very dusty in there, very dirty. It needed a house elf to do some good cleaning, and Dobby likes to clean at Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore is a great master, he has given Dobby a good job here."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Dobby wasn't really getting to the point, yet he didn't want to be rude and interrupt his tale. So he patiently waited until Dobby would tell him what he had to say.

"Dobby took out the things in this cabinet and cleaned it out. There were books, mostly, and other things, but Dobby didn't take a closer look. House elf are not supposed to look at private things when they are cleaning, but one of the books had this pentagram on it. Dobby knows that it was exactly this symbol."

Harry's breathing sounded harsh and fast in his own ears. "What kind of book? What was its title?"

Dobby shook his head. "No title. Only this symbol. It was an old book, very old, tattered and with loose pages. Dobby nearly caused the pages to fall out, but managed to put them back in. It wasn't a book like these", he pointed at a stack of Harry's school books which was sitting on a chair in the corner.

"Why not?"

"The book was very old. Not a book like these, with many copies. Not printed."

"You mean it was handwritten?", Harry asked, and immediately the house elf nodded.

"Yes, written it was. Not printed. And very, very old. A black leather book, very worn, but the symbol was very clear. Dobby saw it, but then Dobby was reprimanded and shouted at for cleaning out the cabinet, and he was sent back into the kitchens and told never to come up again. Dobby asked the other house elves and they said that the cabinet is always locked normally. Dobby simply didn't know, but still he shouted at Dobby. Shouted very much, he was very angry."

Harry didn't know if he should dare to ask, but the question was out of his mouth before he had the time to reconsider.

"Who shouted at you, Dobby? Whose rooms did you find that book in?"

"Professor Snape's rooms", Dobby said lowly, as if he was frightened that the man could hear that the elf was talking about him if he spoke too loudly. Harry felt his heart do a funny lurch inside of his chest and his stomach turn to ice.

"Professor Snape? You found that book in Professor Snape's office?"

Dobby shook his head. "Not his office. His private rooms, no student ever comes there."

Harry sank back in his chair and mulled this new development over in his head. He could be wrong, it could be something entirely different that Dobby had seen, but what the house elf had told him had sparked Harry's curiosity. He had not yet come across a book about Necromancy that had been so old that it was handwritten and falling apart already, especially none that didn't have a title printed on front but only the pentagram symbol. It could mean nothing, of course, but it was a rather curious fact that Snape owned a book that was somehow connected to Necromancy, and that he was hiding that book away in a locked cupboard.

"Dobby, does Professor Snape have bookshelves in his private rooms?"

The house elf nodded immediately. "Of course. Professor Snape has many, many books in his living room. Two walls with bookshelves, a lot of work for cleaning."

Harry shook his head slowly. This was getting more and more mysterious. If it was merely a 'normal' book, then why had Snape locked it away? He might not want it to fall into anybody's hands, but Harry couldn't imagine that all too many people had access to his private rooms. House elves might come and go for cleaning and serving, but those creatures were so incredibly loyal that none of them would ever touch something if it was expressively forbidden, much less take something on their own volition. Dobby had said that no student ever came to Snape's rooms, so why should the potions master bother with locking away that book?

"Was Dobby able to help master Harry Potter?"

Harry looked up and smiled at Dobby. "You've helped me a lot, Dobby. I need to think this over, but I believe this was very helpful. Thank you very much, Dobby."

Dobby grinned his head-splitting grin again and gave a slight bow. "Dobby is glad that he could help Harry Potter. Harry Potter has helped Dobby so often already, Harry Potter has helped Harry get the best job of his life here at Hogwarts, Dobby is very glad that he could help Harry Potter now."

"I need to go to the library again, see what I can find out about that book you told me about. I'll visit you in the kitchens later."

Dobby nodded and slid off his seat. "Dobby is looking forward to it." And with a low pop, he vanished. Harry leaned back in his chair and fixed his eyes on the parchment in front of him until the pentagram symbol was all he saw. It could be possible that what Dobby had seen was exactly the book he needed, but it was a remote possibility. After all, if Snape owned that book, it meant that he was far closer connected to Necromancy than Harry had initially thought. From what he had gathered during his researches, only Necromancers owned detailed descriptions of necromantic rites, and if that was what Dobby had found in Snape's rooms, then it meant that Snape was one of them. Didn't it? Of course, he could have gotten hold of that book from another source. Harry knew next to nothing about Snape's life before he had come to Hogwarts, he only knew that he had been a Death Eater at one point. Still was, actually, because Harry didn't think that was something one could end by handing in a resignation. But there must have been a point in the past when Snape had really been working for Voldemort, and during that time the book could have come into Snape's possession. It could be possible.

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. No matter how Snape had gotten hold of that book, if it was really a book that described a necromantic rite, then Harry needed it. Snape would not help him with his plan, even if he was a Necromancer. The conversation he had had with his professor about that topic had made that one point perfectly clear. So Harry needed to get hold of the book to make sure that it was what he needed, and then he needed to get into the Department of Mysteries to try and use it if he could. He might not be a Necromancer himself, but somehow Harry was sure that things would fall into place if only he managed to find everything he needed to bring Sirius back. He needed Sirius, there simply had to be a way to bring him back. And Harry would find it, no matter what the cost.


	29. With A Little Help From My Friends

**Chapter 29 – With a Little Help From my Friends**

The next morning, Harry came down in the Gryffindor common room earlier than usual. Normally, he got up between eight and half past eight, but this morning he had woken up at seven and had not been able to sleep anymore. So he took a shower, dressed and went down to see if somebody had already brought up breakfast. Normally, breakfast was there already by the time he got up, but he didn't quite know when the house elves brought it.

He quickly found out that the elves brought his breakfast up later, because now at half past seven there was only one set of breakfast laid out in the common room, and that was Remus'. Though the house elves could as well have spared themselves the trouble, because the plate with toast and scrambled eggs was still standing on the table, untouched. The pot with tea and a cup were standing on the small table between the sofa and the fireplace. Remus was lying on the sofa, and for a short, split-second, Harry thought that something horrible had happened. Remus was extremely pale, a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead, and aside from a slight shivering, which Harry only detected after a few moments, he was not moving at all. His arms lay limply by his side, and his feet were propped up on a couple of pillows. Maybe with everything else he had had on his mind, he had not paid enough attention to his former teacher over the past two days, but it startled Harry to see just how bad Remus looked. He was awfully thin, his face so pale and gaunt that it had a skull-like appearance. His eyes were closed, moving restlessly beneath his eyelids. Harry stepped closer to his former teacher, not so sure whether he should wake him or not. Remus looked as if he could do with some sleep, but Harry was too worried that something was seriously wrong with him at the moment.

"Remus?", he asked softly. As no immediate response came forward, Harry bent down and carefully touched his shoulder.

"Remus? What is wrong?"

After a long moment, Remus moved his head slightly and slowly opened his eyes. His gaze remained unfocused for a moment, then he seemed to recognize who was leaning above him.

"Harry." It was a weak whisper, and it scared Harry more than he could say. The teenager sat down on the sofa beside Remus and nervously wrung his hands.

"What is wrong with you?", he repeated. Remus shrugged and attempted to sit up, but he only managed to move a bit upwards on the sofa.

"Shall I call Madam Pomfrey?"

Remus shook his head, then he shrugged, as if he himself wasn't entirely sure. "I just don't feel too well."

From his low voice and the long pauses between the words, Harry guessed that Remus was understating the degree of how bad he felt.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing specific. I just feel weak, dizzy. Can't stay up for long, I thought maybe I should lie down."

Harry noticed that even Remus' cup of tea was untouched and he wondered if Remus had even had the strength to lift the cup once he had lain down on the sofa.

"Do you want to drink something?"

Remus eyed his cup of tea but made no move to reach for it. Probably his unsuccessful attempt at sitting up had told him enough about his ability to move around. Wordlessly, Harry reached for the cup, emptied the cold tea into one of the flowerpots on the windowsill and refilled it with warm tea. Then he brought the cup to Remus' lips and helped him drink. Remus downed nearly the entire cup, Harry guessed that he must have been really thirsty. For a few moments, he remained sitting wordlessly next to him and watched how Remus was struggling to stay awake, then Harry got up from the sofa.

"I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey now. This isn't normal."

Remus only shrugged powerlessly and didn't make any move to hold Harry back, which was alarming enough. Normally, Remus did everything to avoid being fussed over by healers, especially by Madam Pomfrey, but right now Harry wouldn't have cared even if Remus had yelled at him to stop. The man was not looking well, in fact he was looking far worse than he had done all summer. It was obvious that he needed help, and Harry would get him that help now.

There was floo-powder on the mantle above the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, so Harry quickly grabbed it and threw some of it into the ever-present fire in the fireplace.

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey, are you here?", he yelled as loud as he could. A moment later, the Hogwarts nurse's head appeared in the flames with a slightly scolding look on her face.

"Mr Potter, what is wrong to have you shouting through the fire like that? The connection is quite fine, you don't need to yell like that."

Harry swallowed and tried to calm himself.

"It's Remus. He'd not doing well, please come and look after him."

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "Does he have another seizure?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no he doesn't."

"Where is he?"

"Gryffindor common room."

"I'll be with you in a moment."

Her head vanished and the connection went dead. Harry got up from the floor and quickly made room for the nurse to floo through. It took maybe a minute, then the flames flared green and Madam Pomfrey stepped out, her bag for emergencies held tightly in one hand, wand in the other. Without paying any mind to Harry, she went over to the sofa where Remus lay and knelt down beside him. Remus was still looking worrisomely pale, and he seemed to be only half-conscious. He didn't even seem to notice that the Hogwarts nurse had arrived. Madam Pomfrey brandished her wand over him for a few minutes, then she sighed and got up from the floor. Harry quickly stepped up to her.

"What is wrong with him?"

Madam Pomfrey didn't turn towards him, instead she pointed her wand at Remus again and conjured a stretcher underneath his body.

"Later, Mr Potter. I want to bring him to the infirmary first. I can only tell you what's wrong with him once I have examined him more closely."

Without waiting for Harry to answer, Madam Pomfrey levitated the stretcher towards the portrait hole and vanished. Harry stared after her for a moment, then he started to hurry after her. It seemed to take endless minutes until they had reached the infirmary, and during all that time Madam Pomfrey didn't say a single word, and Remus didn't move just the slightest bit. As soon as their strange little procession had reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey levitated Remus over to a bed, closed the curtains around the bed and thusly signalled Harry in no uncertain terms that he had to wait for now. Harry sat down in one of the chairs that stood against a wall, but after a few moments he got up again and started pacing up and down the room. He was worried, very worried. He had never seen Remus like that, actually he had never seen anybody in such a bad condition, and from all he knew there wasn't much Madam Pomfrey would be able to do about it. This was no flu, or the result of a spell gone wrong, this was obviously an effect of Remus' blood bond with Sirius. For quite some time Harry had now known that this connection would kill Remus eventually if nothing was done to sever it, yet he had not let the realisation of what that meant close to him. But it meant just what was happening now – that Remus would become weaker and die. This was not a seizure that was over sooner or later, after which Remus would get up and be around again. And that was a thought which clenched something inside of Harry's chest together. He had known that there wasn't much time left for him to save Sirius, and through all his researches he had not realised that there also wasn't much time left to save Remus.

For a few minutes, Harry heard the sound of mumbled conversation from behind the curtains, then Madam Pomfrey emerged and walked over to the infirmary fireplace. Harry didn't pay attention to what the nurse was doing, most probably she was calling up Professor Dumbledore, and he certainly didn't need to hear what those two were talking about. So instead, he went over towards Remus' bed and stepped behind the curtains.

Remus was lying on the bed, as pale as the sheets, and his eyes closed, though Harry quickly noticed that he was not really asleep. Remus' robe hung over the back of the chair that stood next to his bed, the chair on which Harry sat down. Madam Pomfrey had pulled the blanket up to Remus' chest, and the slow rise and fall of his chest from Remus' breathing was the only visible movement.

"Remus?", Harry asked softly. Remus turned his head a fraction into Harry's direction and opened his eyes slightly. Upon recognising who was sitting next to his bed, a weak smile showed on his face.

"Hello Harry."

"How are you feeling?"  
Remus shrugged slightly and didn't answer, but the smile on his face faltered visibly. Harry had not understood what Remus and Madam Pomfrey had been talking about, but he had the feeling that it had not been something good. Before Harry could think of something encouraging to say – which would have sounded like an empty platitude, anyway – the curtains behind Harry were opened and Madam Pomfrey came back, Professor Dumbledore behind her. The headmaster moved to stand on the other side of the bed while Madam Pomfrey remained standing on the foot end.

"You should rest, Remus. Sleep would be best for you now", she admonished him gently.

Remus smiled again. "I thought that there was a lot of talking to be done now."

"What happened, Remus?", Dumbledore interrupted them.

Once more, Remus only shrugged. "I've not been feeling well all of yesterday. Today it got worse. That's about it."

Madam Pomfrey made a low tsk-ing sound in the back of her throat. "You should have come to me immediately when you noticed that you were not feeling well."

"Oh, and what would you have been able to do?"

"I could have had an eye on you, make sure that this didn't get worse."

Another weak smile played around Remus' lips. "I've always appreciated your abilities, but I doubt that you would have been able to stop this."

Dumbledore waved his wand around and conjured up a chair, then he sat down and looked first at Remus, then at Madam Pomfrey.

"What exactly is wrong?"

Remus lifted his hand out from under the blanket and waved at Madam Pomfrey to do the explanation. The nurse sighed.

"In short, Remus' condition is worsening. His blood pressure is horribly low, the bond with Mr. Black is continuously drawing from his resources, only that he doesn't have any resources left it can draw from. That is why he is lacking his strength now, and for as long as the bond exists, it will only get worse."

She cast a short glance at Harry, but the teenager didn't move and nobody made move to send him away, so she continued.

"I will tell you the same I've told Remus after my examination. He is dying. There is nothing I can do against that for as long as this blood-bond is holding up. With the use of potions and medications, I could stabilise his condition somewhat, but it would only be a short-term solution, nothing that would last for long."

Harry felt his stomach plunge down in free-fall, as if drawn by an invisible leaden weight. Dying. Remus was dying. This was all going too fast, there wasn't enough time. Dumbledore, however, didn't show any visible reaction to Madam Pomfrey's words.

"What do you think, how much time do we have left?"

"It's hard to say, Albus. He could get another seizure any moment, and then it would be impossible to tell. If his momentary condition worsens as rapidly as it does now, without another seizure, I don't think we have a lot more than a week. If he has another seizure…I doubt that his body could really handle that at the moment. No matter what, there isn't much time."

Dumbledore nodded pensively, and Harry caught himself shaking his head repeatedly. It simply could not be true, Madam Pomfrey had to be wrong. It simply could not be true.

"Poppy, do you think that Remus' body would be able to handle the poison we were planning to give him? We need to make sure that the antidote will work."  
Remus gave a short, choked laugh. "Not that it will make all that much difference in the long run, Albus."

Dumbledore didn't answer, but he looked intensely at Remus for a long moment before he looked back at Madam Pomfrey. The nurse thought for a moment, then she nodded.

"In his momentary condition, I wouldn't count on it. But with the help of the right potions, I could stabilise him enough so that his chances are good. But I wouldn't wait for too much longer, Albus. Remus' condition could be far worse in two or three days."

Remus nodded and looked at Albus. "Maybe we should talk to Severus, Albus. I…I think we should consider breaking the connection tomorrow, under those circumstances."

After a long moment, Dumbledore nodded. "I will call him up here, then we can talk about it."

He got up from his chair and moved towards the curtain, Madam Pomfrey following him. A moment later, Harry remained alone with Remus, who was staring down at his hands and gave the impression of avoiding to look at Harry at all costs.

"I'm sorry", he finally said, very softly. "It's the only way."

Harry nodded, though everything inside of him screamed that this was an entirely wrong decision.

"I've already told you that I understand why you're doing this", Harry responded. "You don't need to apologise. It's okay."

Remus laughed weakly. "It's an endearing trait, but you're the worst liar I've seen in a long time." Finally, he looked up at Harry. "It's not okay. Not at all. I wasn't lying to you, Harry. If there was a way to bring Sirius back, I would gladly do everything I could. But there isn't. This is the hardest decision I've had to make in my life, I didn't take this lightly. I _don't_ take this lightly."

"I know. I only wish that I had found another way, a way to bring Sirius back."

Remus smiled and with an obvious effort, he brought up his hand and squeezed Harry's arm. "You've done all you can, Harry. And on a theoretically, entirely abstract level you've found it. But unfortunately it's a way that won't work if you try it out. I wasn't only trying to talk you out of your researches on Necromancy, I really made up my mind about it. It sounds tempting, it sounds like the perfect solution, but it isn't. I've thought about it for a long time, and talked to somebody who knows more about this than the two of us, and I can only repeat that it's no solution. It sounds tempting, promising even, but it won't work. Remember what you promised me."

Harry nodded, and Remus squeezed Harry's shoulder again in an attempt to cheer him up. "I trust Albus and Severus. This will work out, Harry. And we'll both learn how to deal with it."

Harry nodded again and got up from his chair.

"You should get some rest. I'll come back later this afternoon, is that all right?"

Remus nodded. "Of course. You can come by anytime."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry needed to get out, needed to get some fresh air after this morning's events. He left the castle through the main gate and aimlessly walked across the grounds. Reality was catching up so fast, Harry had hoped to have another week or so to make up his mind about what was going to happen. But if what Madam Pomfrey had said was true, then they didn't have another week. Remus probably didn't have another week. Tomorrow they would try to cut Sirius off, and that meant that if Harry wanted to attempt bringing Sirius back, he'd need to do it before that. He'd need to do it today.

His pulse quickened and unconsciously his steps accelerated as well, taking him back to the castle. Harry didn't spend any more time thinking about what he was going to do. He needed to call Ron, and before that, he needed to make a trip to the kitchens. He would simply go along with things for as long as they worked out, all the thinking could be done later. With that new resolve in mind, Harry took a deep breath and hurried down into the kitchens. He tickled the pear, and the door to the kitchens opened for him. As usual, a whole bunch of excited house elves greeted him with offerings of food and drink, but Harry's eyes strayed around the room in search of Dobby. He didn't have to search long, with a beaming smile, Dobby made a beeline for him as soon as he noticed that Harry had come into the kitchens.

"Harry Potter! Can Dobby get Harry Potter something to eat? Something to drink?"  
Harry shook his head. "No, thank you. Is there somewhere we can talk, Dobby? Without anybody else hearing, I mean?"

"Has Dobby done something wrong?"

"No, of course not", Harry quickly assured the house elf, who was beginning to show signs of distress. "I just need to talk to you, and I don't want anybody else to hear it. Is there anywhere we can talk?"

"Yes, there is", Dobby said, and before he could say or do anything else, the house elf had reached for his arm, taken hold of it, and with a pop that rang loudly in his ears, Harry suddenly found himself in a room at Hogwarts he had never been in before. He looked around. Huge shelves lined the three windowless walls, all stacked with boards upon boards of folded white laundry. Sheets, bed-linens, towels, everything the Hogwarts students used during the years was to be found here. The window on the fourth wall showed the grounds outside, and from what Harry saw, he guessed that he was somewhere in the East-wing of the castle. Harry turned towards Dobby.

"Where are we?"

"Laundry rooms", Dobby said. "The house elves do the students' laundry here, but no elf comes here during the summer holidays. Master Harry Potter wanted to talk in quiet, it's the quietest place Dobby knows."

Harry nodded, unsure how to begin. "Good. Erm, Dobby – do you remember what you told me when you brought me the parchments I had forgotten to Gryffindor tower?"

Dobby cocked his head to the side, his big ears flapping. "Dobby had seen the symbol Harry Potter had drawn before. Dobby told Harry Potter that."

"Right. And you said that you saw it on a book in Professor Snape's quarters. He keeps it in a locked cabinet there."

Again, the house elf nodded, and Harry drew a deep breath. He knew how difficult this was going to be for Dobby. The house elf was incredibly attached to him, he'd do nearly anything to please Harry. But he was also very loyal to his job in Hogwarts, and especially to Albus Dumbledore. It would collide heavily with Dobby's work-ethics if he did what Harry asked of him.

"Dobby, this is really important to me. Do you think you can get the book for me?"

Dobby's eyes became wide as saucers and he took a step back. "Take the book from Professor Snape? No, Dobby could not do that."

Harry sighed and slowly paced the room. "I know that you would normally not do anything like that. I wouldn't ask it of you if it weren't really important. I think this book might be the one I need to help Remus."

Dobby uncomfortably hopped from one foot to the next. "Master Lupin is very ill, isn't he?"  
"Remus is dying, Dobby."

"Dobby is very sorry to hear that. Dobby wants to help, but taking something away, stealing it from a professor…Dobby doesn't know if he can do that."

"I will explain it to you why this is so important. Sirius…you know Sirius?", Harry interrupted himself, not knowing whether the house-elf actually knew about Harry's godfather. Dobby shook his head. "Sirius is my godfather, he and Remus have been good friends ever since they went to school. Last summer, Sirius died. And now Remus is dying because he is bound to Sirius, and Sirius is pulling him towards where he is. Professor Dumbledore thinks the only way to save him is to cut the connection off. But I think there is a way to save both, a way that brings Sirius back. And for that, I need the book from Professor Snape. I think it describes how this can be done. Dobby, I simply need to try this, I simply need to do anything I can to save both, Sirius and Remus."

Dobby shook his head again and began bouncing up and down on the spot. He was extremely agitated, thinking hard about what Harry had just told him.

"Dobby can't steal anything, no matter how much he wants to help Harry Potter. And Professor Snape keeps the cabinet with the book locked."  
"Dobby, I promise you that I will return the book, undamaged. And if anything comes out, I will take the whole blame. Nobody will ever know that you had anything to do with it. And I think that you could open the cabinet easily if you wanted to. You have strong magic, Dobby. Only a few moments ago, you brought the two of us up here just by snipping your fingers. I know that it is hard for you, and I really wouldn't ask it of you if there was another way. But there isn't another way, and I don't have much time to think about it. I need to do something today, otherwise I won't be able to save Sirius and Remus. Just think about it, Dobby. Please."

Dobby looked doubtful, then he nodded. "Dobby will think about it, Harry Potter."

He snipped his fingers again and vanished, and with a sigh, Harry turned towards the door. He emerged from behind a portrait on the fourth or fifth floor somewhere in the east-wing of the castle, which gave him enough time to think on his way back to Gryffindor tower. If Dobby didn't help him, he somehow needed to figure out how to get to Snape's rooms himself.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

In the common room, Harry wasted no time in making sure that he was alone – with Remus in the infirmary not that hard a task, then he knelt down in front of the fireplace and threw a handful of floo-powder into the flames.

"No. 12, Grimmauld Place!", he called and waited for something to happen. A few seconds later, it was Kingsley's face that appeared in the fireplace. He frowned as he recognised Harry.

"Harry, why are you calling? Is this a safe connection?"

"I think so. I'm calling from Hogwarts, is that okay?" In all actuality, Harry had not thought about the question whether the floo-connection was safe or not. But Kingsley's face relaxed gradually and he nodded.

"That should be all right. But why are you calling?"

"I need to talk to Ron, if he's there."

"A moment, I think he's upstairs. I'll call him."

Kingsley's face vanished, and Harry had a good view on the empty basement kitchen. Two minutes passed, then three and four, and finally the door opened and Ron came into the room. He came walking over and knelt down in front of the fireplace.

"Harry, how are you? Everything all right at Hogwarts?"

Harry shrugged. "So far. Did you get my letter?"  
Ron nodded. "Yes, I did. I wrote a reply and sent it this morning, but so far this bloody kitchen has never been empty so that I could call you up."

"Is anybody else there now?"  
Ron shook his head. "No, only Kingsley was down here. Mum's at the Ministry with Dad, and Bill and Charlie are fetching Hermione and Ginny from the ferry."

"They're back already?"  
Ron shrugged. "Hermione's mother had some sort of allergy on something she ate. They decided to leave a few days early because she wanted to see a muggle doctor at home. But I'm sure that's not why you called."  
"No, it's not. I need your help with something."

"Sure. Just shoot it out, mate."

"I need to get into the Ministry of Magic without anybody noticing."

Ron's chin dropped and he quickly turned to look and see whether anybody was in the kitchen who could have overheard. "What? But why?"

Harry gestured for him to be patient. "It's a long story, and not easy to explain. Did anybody tell you what is wrong with Remus?"

Ron shook his head. "Only that he's not doing well. And you wrote that he had another two of those seizures."

"Remus is dying, Ron."

Ron paled and shook his head. "You can't be serious."

"I am. He has a blood bond with Sirius, and if that bond isn't cut or Sirius is brought back, Remus will die. He doesn't have much time left."

There was a frown on Ron's face. "But what does that have to do with the Ministry of Magic?"

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Remus want to cut the connection. That would save Remus, probably, if he survives it. But I believe that there is another way, one that will bring Sirius back as well. And for that I need to get into the Ministry of Magic, because that is where he fell through that archway."

"What do Professor Dumbledore and Remus say about that?"

Harry drew a deep breath and for a short moment contemplated lying to his friend. But he knew that sooner or later Ron would get to know the truth, and he'd rather tell it himself.

"They don't know about it. They're both convinced that it won't work, but I've spent the past days researching it and I _know_ that it will work. I have everything I need, but I need to get into the Ministry. Do you think you can help me with that?"

Ron leaned back and thought for a moment. "What do you plan to do?"

Harry shook his head. "You don't want to know. I'll probably get into serious trouble for using magic during the holidays, I don't want to involve you into all that. I just need to get into the Ministry."  
Ron chewed his lower lip for a moment, then he nodded. "We obviously can't take the floo. They will realise if more than one person comes rushing in, with all that soot."

"Which other ways are there to get into the Ministry?"

"The elevator in the phone-box which we took the last time. But then they'd know it as well. The Ministry will certainly not fall for an invisibility cloak if you're trying to enter. They know how many people enter the phone-box, whether they're visible or not."

Harry shook his head. "That doesn't work, either. But there has to be a way."

"I can't think of one, mate. Except…"

Harry sat up a bit straighter. "Except what?"

"My father always leaves an emergency portkey which is set for his office. He can't apparate straight there, you can only apparate to the Ministry atrium. But sometimes, Dad gets those cases when he needs to act quickly before the muggles notice that magic has been performed, and when he gets such an urgent message, he takes the portkey directly to his office. It's registered and legal, so nobody at the Ministry will wonder if it's used, and they won't know how many people arrived. You could take your cloak, then nobody could see you, either."

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Do you know where your father keeps that portkey?"

Ron nodded. "In his bedside table. I…he probably won't like it if I take it, though."

Harry felt uncomfortable to ask this from Ron, but there simply was no other way.

"I know that I can't force you to take it, but Ron, this is the only way to bring Sirius back. I _need_ to get to the Ministry. It's important, very important to me."

"You're sure this will work?"

Harry thought for a moment, then he nodded. "There's still a book I need to look at, but if it's what I suspect it is, then yes. I'm sure that it'll work."

Ron looked around the kitchen as if he was making sure that nobody was there, then he nodded. "All right. When do you want to go?"

"Tonight, if you manage. There isn't much time, they'll be trying to cut off Sirius tomorrow."

"I could get the portkey before Mum and Dad come back. If Dad isn't called to an emergency, he won't notice before tomorrow, if not much later. But we'd have to meet somewhere, and I don't know if I can use the floo once everybody is back. They'll get suspicious if I leave immediately, so I'll have to wait for a good moment."

Harry nodded. "Just floo to the Gryffindor common room, I'll wait for you here."

"All right."

"Thank you, Ron", Harry said with heartfelt emotion. "I don't want to get you into trouble, but there really is no other way."

"Don't you worry about that, mate. No matter what kind of trouble I get into, Fred and George have certainly done something worse. And they survived Mum's wrath, so I will as well. It won't look strange to anybody if I suddenly appear in the common room?"

Harry shook his head. "Nobody except from me is here. Remus is in the hospital wing, and nobody else ever comes into Gryffindor tower that I know of."

Ron nodded.

"All right, I'll see what I can do. I'll try to come over at some point after dinner, then they won't notice so quickly that I'm gone. If something goes wrong, I'll do my best to let you know."

"Thank you, Ron."

With a last nod of his head, Ron leaned back and vanished, then the connection broke off. Harry sank back on his heels with a sigh. Things were set in motion now, he'd have to see where all this would lead him to.


	30. Expect the Unexpected

**Chapter**** 30 – Expect the Unexpected**

Harry distracted himself as good as he could for the rest of the day, but still the minutes seemed to stretch endlessly, no matter what he did. he went into the library first for some last-minute researches, but noticed rather quickly that he was not able to focus on anything. He took a walk outside, but the weather was not really good and from the distance Harry could already see that Hagrid was not in his hut. He had not been there for most of the summer, much to Harry's regret, but everybody had been very secretive about where he had gone to. Harry only knew that he had been searching for a herd of hippogriffs in which to wilder out Buckbeak, but for one that could not take weeks, and Harry guessed that this was not a task that needed everybody else to be so secretive about it. No, he guessed that the groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor was away on Order business.

After a long inner debate, Harry went back into the castle and slowly walked up to the infirmary. There was nobody in the big room as he entered, so he slowly stepped up to Remus' bed and stuck his head around the curtains. Remus was sitting up in bed, still visibly exhausted, a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ lying on the blanket in front of him. He looked up as he noticed Harry's presence and smiled at him.

"Harry, do come over."

Harry smiled and pulled up a chair, sitting down next to the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

Remus shrugged and with slow and careful movements began folding up the paper. "All right. Madam Pomfrey gave me a couple of potions, at least I'm not feeling all that weak anymore. What about you?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his chair, not quite daring to look up at Remus. He knew that it was ridiculous, but he had the feeling that if he looked straight at him, Remus would know what Harry was planning. He didn't like to break the promise he had given to his former teacher, but right now Harry simply saw no other way to save Remus and bring Sirius back.

"Well, nothing really interesting happened since this morning, if that's what you mean. It's getting a bit boring here after a while." Hesitantly, he lifted his head and looked into the general direction of Remus' face. "You're going to cut him off tomorrow, aren't you?", he asked, his voice sombre now.

Remus flinched a bit at Harry's choice of words, but he nodded.

"Albus and I talked to Severus for quite some time earlier. There is a potion – well, a poison, actually – which Severus will give to me. It should arrest all vital functions until Severus injects the antidote. Hopefully, that should break the connection." He hesitated for a moment, then he breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry, Harry. I wish there was another way."

Harry shook his head. "It's not that. I mean…it is that, to a certain degree, but that's not the real reason why I just asked you about it."

"Then what is the reason?"

"Do you think that you can handle being poisoned right now? What Madam Pomfrey said this morning didn't sound too good."

Remus smiled sadly, though Harry was still refusing to look at him and thusly didn't see it.

"I admit that I'm not at my best right now. But before Severus gives me the poison, Madam Pomfrey is going to have her way with me. By tomorrow noon, I'm going to be filled to the rim with Pepper-Up Potions and Strengthening Solutions, so that it shouldn't be a problem." He gestured to a tray that stood against the wall on the other side of the bed. It was filled with small bottles of different colours, some of which Harry recognised, some of which he didn't. He frowned.

"She's going to give you all of those?"

Remus chuckled. "I think she'll give me a thorough selection of those, depending on my condition tomorrow morning. But not all of them, at least I hope not. At the moment, Poppy is down in the dungeons, discussing ingredients and possible inter-, cross- and counter reactions of potions and poisons with Severus. It's quite a professional challenge to both of them, I imagine."

"Sounds as if you were their guinea-pig."

Remus shook his head and sat up a bit straighter in his bed. "It's not that bad, Harry. Of course this is no standard medical procedure, but the both of them know very well what they are doing. Albus is not only just a little qualified in the field, as well. I'm in good hands here, I trust the three of them to make this work."

Harry still wasn't entirely convinced, but there was nothing he could do about that now. If things went well, maybe Remus would not even have to undergo that procedure tomorrow. If things went well. It all depended on Dobby and Ron now, and if Harry truly managed to get into the Ministry, then he'd have to make sure that everything was straightened out before Snape gave the poison to Remus.

Remus noticed that Harry drifted off with his thoughts, and after a moment he put a hand on Harry's arm and squeezed it gently.

"I know that this is hard, Harry. Give it time."

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. "Just see to it that you get out of this alive, will you?"

Remus smiled slightly. "It might be buried deep inside of me, but I'm still a Marauder, Harry. And no Marauder would allow Severus Snape to be the one to end his life. It sounds easier said than done, but don't you worry overly much about it. It'll all go well."

Except that when Dumbledore, Remus and Snape were through with their little scheme, Sirius would no longer be there. Harry didn't hold a grudge against Remus for making that decision, he had thought about it for long enough to understand his former teacher's reasons and to realise that Remus wasn't taking this decision lightly. But still, at the mere thought that by tomorrow afternoon all chances at saving Sirius would be wasted, Harry felt anger flare up inside of him. That anger was directed at nobody in particular, rather at the world and its unfairness as a whole, but still it was there, constantly nagging at him somewhere deep down inside.

He remained sitting at Remus' bedside for about half an hour longer, chatting about this and that with his former teacher, both carefully avoiding to mention Sirius or the following day in general. But it was obvious that Remus was exhausted and tired despite the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him, so Harry decided to leave before he'd wear Remus down even further.

"I'll come back tomorrow morning, if that's okay", he said as he got up from the chair. Remus smiled and nodded.

"Of course it's okay, Harry. Promise me that you won't spend the rest of the evening brooding, though."

Harry was already about to break one promise he had given Remus, but considering everything he had planned for the remaining evening, he was sure that he'd not have much time to think or brood about anything.

"I promise. Until tomorrow, Remus."

"Until tomorrow, Harry."

Harry turned and left the infirmary, deeply lost in thought. He was so close, he simply could not give up now. Maybe everything would turn for the better soon, he only had to believe firmly in it. Rather aimlessly, Harry strolled through the castle until his steps took him back to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady smiled at him and – without bothering to ask for a password – swung aside and let Harry in. This was a behaviour she had started to show as of late. She was always inclined to chat a little when Harry came in and out of the common room, but already a few days ago she had stopped asking him for a password, commenting it with the words that aside from him and Remus, nobody came to Gryffindor Tower anyway, and she'd ask for the right password if somebody else happened to come by. It was fine with Harry, the password hadn't changed since he had arrived at Hogwarts, and constantly mumbling 'Gillyweed' at the Fat Lady didn't really make sense, that he had to agree with. So he simply smiled at the Fat Lady, walked into the common room and sank down on a sofa in front of the fireplace. Despite the fact that it was summer, a fire was burning merrily, but Harry had the feeling that it was not giving off any heat. Probably some sort of spell, Harry had never paid any attention to it before. Not that he spent much thought about it now, not really. His mind was drifting to and fro between everything that had happened throughout the past days, guessing what would happen in the days that were still to come. If Harry really managed to do what he intended to do, then Sirius might be back with him in a few days. But Harry pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came. He wanted, no _craved_ to have his godfather back, but it would only hurt him far worse if he allowed himself to look forward to it now and then have that imaginary bubble burst.

With a sigh, Harry heaved himself out of his seat and walked up into his dormitory. He opened the trunk at the foot end of his bed, knelt down in front of it and took out the notes he had made on everything he had researched so far. He'd go through them again, at least it would provide a distraction until…well, until either something happened or not. He was about to close his trunk again, but then his eyes caught something in the bottom corner and he stopped short. After a long moment of hesitation, he fully opened the lid of the trunk again, cleared some clothes and books aside and took out the small parcel that had caught his attention. Slowly, as if he was not entirely sure whether he was doing the right thing, he opened the wrapping and revealed the shards that had once been the two-way mirror Sirius had given him. Harry felt tears rise to his eyes and suppressed a choked sob. If only he had used the mirror the night Voldemort had tried to lure him into the Department of Mysteries, then he'd have been able to make sure that Sirius was in fact safe. But no, stupid as he was, Harry had not thought about the mirror, he had blindly run into the Department of Mysteries himself, casing Sirius to follow him and die there.

It was all his fault, only his fault that Sirius had died, of course it was his responsibility to bring him back now. If he had done the right thing that night, Sirius would still be alive, but now all Harry could do was stare into the shards of the mirror at his own broken reflection and cry at the missed opportunity. For long minutes he knelt like that in front of his trunk, then he wrapped the mirror up again, put it on the bottom of his trunk and placed the books and robes above it. There was no use in crying over things that could not be changed anymore now, now it was the time to act and try to make them undone. He closed the lid of the trunk with an audible thud, got up and picked up his notes, then he went downstairs again.

As he descended the stairs, there was a crackling pop and Dobby appeared in the room. Harry felt a sudden cold rush flow through his veins, and he swallowed hard before he forced himself to descend farther into the room and make his presence known. Dobby was perpetually moving, as usual, but there was a slightly subdued and nervous quality to his behaviour right now which Harry had not seen before in the house-elf. He stepped up to Dobby and half-sat down on the lean of one of the sofas. Dobby turned towards him, his huge eyes growing even wider.

"Dobby has been searching for Master Harry Potter."

"Hello Dobby", Harry replied nervously. "I didn't know if you'd come by today."

Dobby sighed deeply and shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes restlessly straying to and fro, never resting on Harry for longer than a few beats.

"Dobby has thought about what Harry Potter asked of him. About taking the book from Professor Snape."

Harry only nodded wordlessly while Dobby continued to hop from one foot to the other.

"Dobby does not like the idea of taking something from a professor. Dobby likes his work at Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore has been very kind to Dobby. He has given him a job here and is paying Dobby for his work here. Dobby does not want to lose his job here."

Harry's heart sank at those words. He should have known that Dobby's loyalty would outweigh his desire to help him, yet he had still hoped that the house-elf would be willing to help him. His whole plan to bring Sirius back was based on the book, he needed the book to go into the Ministry and bring Sirius back. And now Dobby wouldn't help him. But he knew that he couldn't blame the house-elf for his decision, so he forced himself not to show his disappointment.

"It's all right Dobby. I understand your reasons, just forget that I ever mentioned it. I can't ask something of you that goes against your work ethics."

Dobby remained silent for a moment, then he slowly shook his head.

"Harry Potter really needs the book from Professor Snape, doesn't he?"

Harry nodded with a sigh. "Yes, I do. But don't you worry about that. I understand why you can't help me."

He bit his lip and attempted to smile at the house-elf, but somehow he just couldn't manage a convincing smile.

Dobby sighed deeply, then he reached behind his back and pulled a cloth-bound parcel out from underneath the tea-towel that served him as clothing. Harry hadn't seen the package behind his back, but he guessed that the house-elf had somehow disguised the bulge on his back. Dobby held the package out towards Harry, who took it with slightly shaking hands.

"What is that?"

Dobby sighed deeply. "Professor Snape is very busy tonight. Dobby was told to tell Harry Potter that Professor Snape would not have time for Harry Potter's lesson tonight. Dobby thought if Professor Snape was busy, he might not notice that the book is gone. If Professor Snape does not look into the cabinet, he will not notice that somebody took the book. But Harry Potter has to promise to give Dobby the book back tomorrow so that Dobby can put it back."

Harry nodded numbly, staring from the cloth covered parcel up to Dobby and back again. He was speechless, after how Dobby had reacted earlier, he'd have expected anything like this now.

"I promise, Dobby. Wow, this is…I don't know what to say. Thank you so much, Dobby. And I promise I will bring the book back tomorrow morning."

Dobby still looked uncomfortable.

"If Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore find out that Dobby took the book, Dobby will have to leave Hogwarts."

Harry didn't think that Dumbledore would fire Dobby on the spot, but he could understand the house-elf's concerns. To Dobby, this job meant everything, and he had really swallowed his professional pride to help Harry. The elf's loyalty to Harry was extremely touching, Harry only hoped that he would not disappoint this trust.

"Nobody will find out that you took the book, Dobby. Even if Professor Snape notices that it's gone, I'll take the blame for everything. I will keep you out of it, and nobody will ever get to know that you were involved."

Dobby frowned. "Professor Snape will know that Harry Potter didn't open the cabinet. It was strong magic that had it locked."

Harry nodded. "I know. But nobody knows that it's been you, either. I'll think of something in case I get caught, but whatever happens, I will keep you out of this. I promise that you won't be blamed for anything."

That seemed to take at least a little weight off Dobby's shoulders and he started bouncing up and down again.

"Dobby hopes that the book helps Harry Potter."

"I will have a look at it, but from what you told me, I'm sure that it's the right book. I cannot thank you enough for this."

Dobby shook his head. "Harry Potter doesn't need to thank Dobby."

"Yes, I need to. You've done something extraordinary for me, something you needn't have done. I can't thank you enough."

A beaming smile flashed across the elf's face. "Dobby was glad that he could help. Dobby doesn't want Master Lupin to come to any harm, Master Lupin has always been very kind to Dobby."

Harry smiled shakily, and Dobby mirrored that smile.

"I'll come down into the kitchens first thing tomorrow morning to return the book to you. Thank you, Dobby."

Another huge smile split the elf's face, then Dobby gave a small bow and wished Harry a good night. He snapped his fingers, and with a crackling pop, he vanished as quickly as he had come earlier. Harry took a firm hold on the parcel Dobby had given him, as if it might vanish if he let go, then he turned and walked up the stairs into his dormitory. For some reason, he didn't want to open the book down here in the common room, where theoretically somebody could come in at any moment. Nobody had been in here during the past weeks, only Remus and Harry himself, but still Harry felt slightly better as he closed the door to his dormitory behind himself and sat down on his bed with the curtains drawn tightly closed.

With slightly shaking fingers, he undid the cloth-wrapping and carefully pulled out the book. It was every bit like Dobby had described it. An old, leather bound volume that already looked a little worse for wear. Though it was smaller than he had expected, roughly eight to six inches, and not very thick, either. There might be about fifty to eighty pages in there, it was impossible to tell because the pages were thicker than the pages in an average book. In some places, especially on the book's spine, the leather was already cracked from use, but the symbol on the front cover was clearly visible and not in the least damaged by age or use. Harry carefully traced the outer circle around the pentagram with his index finger, marvelling at the precisely drawn lines that seemed to have been etched into the leather. Harry stared at the pentagram for some moments longer, then he carefully turned the cover of the book with bated breath. This was it, now he'd find out if this book had been worth all the trouble Dobby had taken.

The first page was empty, so Harry carefully turned it. There were words on the second page, hand written, just like Dobby had told him, black ink written in a spidery, but clearly readable script that looked fitting for a person who had never seen the twentieth century. A small, leaden lump formed in Harry's stomach as he realised that while he could read the words clearly, he could not understand them. They were written in Latin, a language Harry had never mastered. He stared at the words for endless minutes as if they would start to make sense if he only focussed long enough on them, but they didn't. With a disappointed sigh, Harry turned the page.

The next page was written in the same spidery script and the same black ink, and Harry already wanted to close the book in disappointment when he suddenly realised that this time, he could read the words and make sense of them. Harry stared at the page for a little longer, then turned the page back and stared at the words there, turned the page again in comparison. But it didn't change. While the first page of the book was written in Latin, the second page was written in English. Old English, obviously, some of the words looked rather funny to Harry, but it was English all the same. Quickly, he thumbed randomly through the remaining pages as fast as he dared with the pages as loose as they were. As far as he could see, they were in English as well. Maybe the first page had been the title of the book or something like that. Some parts in the later text were not in English, either, but those could be incantations or something else entirely. He decided to worry about those parts later, turned back to the first page of text, and started to read.

Ten minutes later, Harry scrambled up from his bed to get some parchment and a quill, then he sat down again and continued writing, taking careful notes from time to time.

Two hours later, Harry closed the last page of the book, turned it around, and started from the beginning again.

It was four in the afternoon when Harry finished with his third reading through the book, closed it and carefully wrapt it up again. He put the wrapped parcel under his pillow, climbed from the bed and closed the curtains behind himself again. In his hand, he held the parchment on which he had taken his notes, and with purposeful strides, he walked down the stairs into the common room and out the portrait hole. The book hadn't at all been what he had expected, yet at the same time it had given him the answers he wanted to have. He had a much clearer picture in his mind now, and he also knew that he needed some supplies. Supplies that were easy to get by, even without involving anybody else into it. But first, he'd go down into the kitchens and grab a bite to eat. He hadn't eaten anything today, he realised as he thought about it. This morning, he had been too worried about Remus, and throughout the whole day there had been things that had distracted him. But now his stomach was announcing its need for nourishment rather loudly, and Harry knew that the house-elves would only be too happy to provide him with a solution to that problem.

Harry was actually a bit glad that Dobby was not in the kitchens when he arrived there. He wasn't quite sure how he would confront Dobby now, after he had pulled the friendly house-elf into such a scheme. But Dobby wasn't there, so Harry sat down at one of the tables and dug into the chicken and ham pie that the house-elves served him. For dessert, he had a delicious strawberry tart and a glass of milk, then he thanked the elves and left the kitchens again to get his provisions.

Harry hadn't been strolling around the castle very much during his stay here, at least not the parts which were normally used for classes during the school year. It felt strange, walking through those empty corridors now when Harry had never known them to be empty during the school year, except from maybe at night during one of his strolls under the invisibility cloak. The classrooms, too, were empty, the chairs put up onto the tables so that the floors could be cleaned more easily, and Harry's steps echoed hollowly through the rooms and hallways. It was easy to find chalk, the first classroom already held far more than Harry would need. He pocketed a few pieces, some in the pockets of his robes, others in the pockets of his jeans. Just to make sure. He didn't plan on shedding his robes, but one could never know. Harry didn't want his plan to be destroyed by a missing piece of chalk.

The candles were a bit more difficult to find. Most classrooms had chandeliers filled with thick candles that hung from the ceiling, but Harry didn't want to construct something that enabled him to climb up to the chandeliers. So he kept on searching in classrooms and along corridors, until he found a supply of new candles in a storage closet in Flitwick's classroom. He pocketed twice the number that he was going to need, then pulled out the parchment again to check what else he needed. He needed a knife, and as the pocket knife Sirius had given him had been destroyed some months earlier, he had taken one from the kitchens with him earlier. He still needed something to light the candles, but that would not be difficult to find. In case of an emergency, he still could light the candles with an _Incendio _charm, after all he was about to perform illegal magic during the holiday, anyway. But he'd rather not attract any attention to himself if it wasn't necessary, so he'd have to find a matchbox. He didn't find one, and in the end had to make another detour to the kitchens to get one from the house-elves. It was easier said than done, though. House-elves were able to light fires with a snap of their fingers, matches and matchboxes were an alien creation to them. Harry had to explain the concept a number of times until one of the elves, who were seemingly enjoying the task laid before them, managed to conjure up a box of matches that actually worked. Harry tried it out, pocketed it and thanked the elves for their help. Finally, he had everything he had searched for. Now he could only go back to Gryffindor Tower and wait for Ron.

His pockets weighed heavily with the candles as he climbed the stairs. He'd have to put those things into his backpack later on, though he didn't fancy the thought of carrying the tools he needed around in a bag that could be easily lost. But he could hardly walk around with his pockets laden with candles, either, so the backpack seemed the most reasonable solution right now.

Finally, Harry reached the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady was snoring softly in her picture frame, and Harry had to wrap his knuckles lightly against it to wake her. She made a bit show out of waking up, smacked her lips a few times and groaned as if Harry had risen her from the deepest of slumbers, but when she finally opened her eyes and looked at Harry, she merely smiled and let him in without a word. Harry entered the common room and emptied his pockets onto the nearest table from the entrance. He didn't take the time to look around the room after his arrival, and neither did he notice that he was not alone in the room. He stood with his face still towards the wall where the entrance was and slowly pulled the candles out of his pockets when suddenly the prickle of the hairs in the back of his neck told him that somebody was standing right behind him.

"Harry James Potter! You are not serious about this are you? This is illegal, this could get you killed! Have you completely lost your mind?"


	31. Difficult Decisions

**Chapter 31 – Difficult Decisions**

Down in the dungeons, Severus Snape stood at his worktable and by all appearances seemed to brood. Madam Pomfrey had only left his workroom twenty minutes or so before, and ever since her departure he had been standing motionlessly in front of his worktable, staring down at the ingredients and potions aligned there. He and the Hogwarts nurse had been going through a number of potions which she had in store and took into consideration of giving Lupin tomorrow. There were quite a number of strengthening solutions and potions that would serve to improve Lupin's condition in so far that his body could stand being poisoned at all, but quite a few of those could interact with the poison Snape intended to give to him and thusly the two of them had been going through the list Madam Pomfrey had brought, ruling out those of which the ingredients would have a side-effect on the poison. While there was a number of potions Madam Pomfrey could give Lupin, there were only few poisons which could be used for their purpose. Actually, there were only two poisons to which the antidote could be administered effectively after the heart of the poisoned person had stopped beating. Snape was strongly tending towards one of those two poisons because that left him with a larger time-span in which the antidote could be administered. Of course, Lupin would not be able to swallow the antidote by the time it was given to him, Snape would have to inject it into a vein in his arm, then Madam Pomfrey would have to use a reviving spell to cause his heart to start beating and spread the cure through his system so that his heart would start beating on its own again. It was a risky thing they were trying to do anyway, Snape didn't want to chance anything.

It was quite good that Madam Pomfrey had insisted on them having the talk about the potions, because after some moments of mentally going through the list of its ingredients, Snape had ruled out Pepper-Up Potion immediately. If Madam Pomfrey gave that to Lupin before the poison was given to him, Snape could as well spare himself the effort of injecting the antidote, because the interaction of the ingredients would kill him for sure, and irreversibly. And as little as Snape would bemoan Remus Lupin's untimely decease under any other circumstances, Snape would not allow him to die while his life was his responsibility.

And now he was standing here, on his worktable, a line of potions bottles in front of him, mentally contemplating their ingredients and possible interactions with the poison. Most potion masters would have consulted books and lists of ingredients for this task, but Snape was at his best if he simply used his mental catalogues of the respective potions. He had gone through the list twice already and not found a flaw. But that was not enough, Snape didn't want to risk to have missed something. He had advised Madam Pomfrey on three of the strengthening solutions, the use of which depended on Lupin's condition tomorrow morning and noon. And now he'd put those potions to the test.

A wave of his wand levitated a cage with rats over to his worktable. He opened the latch, took one out and put it on a scale to determine its precise weight. Holding the frightened and scurrying rodent in one hand, he did a quick calculation to he amount of strengthening solution and poison that he would give it. Normally, Madam Pomfrey handed out potions by eye-measure except from those which needed to be measured precisely to be effective. But tomorrow morning, every potion she'd administer would be measured out in relation to Lupin's body weight. Snape needed total control over what was going to happen tomorrow, so that he could react immediately if something went not quite as planned.

For the next hour, Snape measured out strengthening solutions, poison and antidote and administered all three of those potions to three of the rats to see if he had to expect any side effects tomorrow when he repeated the procedure with Lupin.

The first experiments went well, so Snape decided to run a few more tests with overdoses and other possible interfering factors, just to be prepared. This was going to become a long night, and Snape was glad that he had decided to cancel his Occlumency lesson with Potter. The boy had not shown up at eight, so the dratted house-elf had probably found him. The lesson would have been a waste of time, anyway. Ever since he had gotten to know that his precious godfather would be cut off from the world of the living for good, Potter had been positively impossible to teach the fine art of guarding his mind. He lacked focus on a good day, when he was distracted or otherwise _emotionally distressed_, he was absolutely unbearable and, above all else, impossible to teach. No, Snape preferred to spend his evening with a task like this, a task which was about potions and measurements, things that could be weighed and predicted, contrary to entering the mind of a stubborn teenager. Snape leaned back for a moment, then he reached into the cage and pulled out a new rat to weigh it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry gasped and spun around as he heard the shrill and angry voice behind him. He had of course recognised the voice, but even now as he faced the person who towered angrily behind him, he could not quite make sense of all this.

"Hermione? What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

Hermione bristled, stroke a strand of hair away from her face and shook her head. Her face was vivid, the cheeks flushed red from her anger, and her eyes were sparkling dangerously.

"What I'm doing here? What I'm doing here? I'm trying to save you from the biggest stupidity in your long history of really big stupidities, that's what I'm doing here! It's bad enough that you're trying to involve Ron into something that might get him into real trouble, but did you even spend one thought on the fact that what you're about to do is illegal? Not to mention immensely dangerous? You could get killed, you could get expelled, you could get arrested or Merlin knows what else!"

Harry took a step back from Hermione's furious presence and looked around the room. His eyes quickly fell on Ron, who was standing in a corner near the fireplace and was grimacing at Harry as if to wordlessly communicate that he had done all he could to stop her. Harry turned back towards Hermione.

"How come that you're here? And how do you know what I'm planning to do? Not even Ron knows what I'm planning to do."

Hermione turned around and pointed her finger at the parchments which Harry had left lying here in the common room earlier when Dobby had brought him the book. Now the parchments were spread on the table in front of the fireplace. Harry breathed in deeply and turned back to Hermione.

"You read my papers? Are you mad?" First Remus, then Dobby, and now Hermione and probably also Ron. Harry couldn't believe it that everybody was reading his papers. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again a words failed him.

"I'm not mad, I'm trying to keep you from doing something stupid! Harry, you cannot honestly believe that this is a way of bringing Sirius back."

"That's exactly what I believe", Harry said angrily and brushed past Hermione to the table where his papers lay. He stacked them together and carried them upstairs into his dormitory, hoping that Hermione would not follow him up here. True enough, she had been in Harry's dormitory before, but Harry hoped that just for once, Hermione would be able to read the signs and stay out of his hair for the time being. There were steps on the stairs behind him, but as he turned to slam the dormitory shut, he saw that it was Ron coming after him. Harry let go off the door and went into the dormitory, Ron following only moments later.

"I'm sorry, mate", he said as he closed the door.

"What is she doing here", Harry hissed angrily.

Ron sat down on his bed and raised his hands in an apologetic gesture. "I told you that Hermione and Ginny came home early from their holiday. Bill and Charlie went to fetch her this morning, she arrived shortly before lunch. Somehow, she knew that I was up to something, you know how she is. And when I didn't tell her, she followed me around. She caught me taking the portkey from my parents' bedroom, and from that moment on there was no getting rid of her anymore. She threatened to tell on me if I didn't bring her along, so I figured we'd somehow get her distracted from what we were about to do once we were here. Problem was that you left your notes on the table. Before I could stop her, something had caught her eye and she had started reading. She grew increasingly agitated the more she read, and I couldn't stop her anymore. I'm sorry."

Harry shook his head and sank down on the bed. "It's not your fault. It was me who left the papers lying around, I should have known that somebody could find them. Merlin knows that far too many people have read them already."

Ron frowned, but didn't investigate any further. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling for a long moment before he looked back at Harry.

"Is Hermione right?"

"With what?"

"That what you want to do is illegal? And dangerous?"  
Harry thought for a moment, then decided that he could as well tell Ron the truth.

"Yes. It's illegal, and it's probably dangerous. But you don't need to worry about that, you won't be involved in either the illegal or the dangerous part."

Ron shook his head. "That's not what I mean, and neither what I worry about. But if it's illegal and dangerous, something could happen to you. That's what worries me. And I want to know if you think it's worth the risk."

Harry pulled his knees up onto the bed. "Yes, I think it's worth the risk. Listen Ron, contrary to what Hermione believes, I spent more time researching this than I ever spent on my schoolwork. I'm convinced that it will work, and that it will bring Sirius back. I've researched it thoroughly, I am convinced that it will work. I only get one chance at pulling this through, and I'm going to use it, no matter if you're helping me or if Hermione is trying to stop me or not."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?"

Harry nodded. "More serious than I've ever been about something before. Ron, it's my fault that Sirius fell through that bloody archway in the first place. And now I find the chance to bring him back, don't you think that I have to use it? I have to set things right again, for that I could need help, but if you say you're not in, then I'll do it on my own."

"You're convinced that this will work?"

"Yes. And I need to do it. I need Sirius back."

Ron thought for a moment, then he nodded. "Problem is what we're going to do with Hermione. Because whatever you do, you won't be able to change her mind about this. She was positively livid when she figured out what all this was about."

Harry settled back against the headboard and thought for a moment.

"You got the portkey?"

Ron nodded and pulled a small box out of his robe pocket.

"Yes, I got it. It isn't set for a certain number of people, so it'll take both of us to the Ministry. Let's hope that my Dad isn't called to an emergency tonight."

"Won't your parents miss you and Hermione?"

Ron shook his head. "Not for a while, at least not until we're already well on our way. Mum was far too busy fussing around Ginny, and Dad had something important to talk about with Kingsley and Tonks. I told Mum I'd be in my room, doing my homework with Hermione, so I guess nobody will come looking for a few hours."

"Good. I have a few of the things I need up here with me, but I need to get the candles from downstairs. And that means facing Hermione again."

Ron nodded, then a thought crossed his mind and he quickly got up from the bed.

"It might be better to face her before she has the idea to tell somebody else about your plan to stop us."

Harry got up as well, grabbed his backpack and invisibility cloak and took the wrapped book out from under his pillow. He put everything into his backpack and both of them immediately hurried down the stairs. Hermione was still in the common room, angrily pacing up and down in front of the fireplace, muttering to herself. Harry and Ron wordlessly brushed past her and Harry started to put the candles into his backpack.

"You aren't leaving, are you?", Hermione said from behind them. Harry packed the last candle into the backpack and turned around.

"Yes, we're leaving. You might not understand it, but I need to do this."

Hermione furiously shook her head. "You won't. I've stood a lot of dumb ideas the two of you cooked out, but this goes too far. This is way out of your league, Harry."

Harry shook his head, then looked at Ron. "You're coming?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

They walked over to the entrance and climbed out of the portrait hole into the corridor. But, much to Ron's surprise, Harry turned right and went down the corridor instead of left towards the staircase. He frowned, but followed his friend down that corridor. There were rapid steps behind them, indicating that Hermione was trying to catch up.

"What are you doing, Harry?", Ron whispered. "That's the wrong direction."

Harry nodded. "I know. But I have an idea. Trust me."

Ron frowned, but wordlessly followed Harry down the corridor. Hermione was catching up with them, and before they reached the staircase at the end of the corridor, she grabbed Harry's arm and stopped him. Harry turned slightly and opened the door they had stopped in front of, but Hermione positioned herself in the doorway and stopped him from going that way.

"I can't let you go, don't you understand? This is madness."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, you're my friend. Normally, I'd trust your judgement blindly, but you simply don't understand. You just don't understand how much I _need_ to do this. There isn't anything else I can do."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't let you do this, Harry. This will only cause problems too big for you to deal with."

Harry stared at Hermione for a long moment, then he shook his head. "I've been dealing with quite a lot of problems in my life, Hermione. I can manage that, believe me."

Again, Hermione shook her head, but Harry interrupted her before she could say something else.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but there's no other way."

And before Hermione realised what was going on, Harry had pushed her backwards by the shoulders into the janitor's closed they had stopped in front of. Hermione opened her mouth in indignant protest, but before she brought out a single word, Harry had slammed the door in her face and was locking and bolting it from the outside. Good thing Filch used to heavily guard his cleaning detergents, and good thing too that he didn't keep the closets locked during the holidays. Hermione immediately started drumming her fists against the door from the inside, yelling at Harry and Ron to let her out. Harry breathed in deeply, then turned into the direction they had come from. Ron remained standing, staring at the closet with his mouth hanging open.

"Ron, come on. We don't have much time."

"You just…a closet…locked Hermione…in a closet…"

Harry sighed and retraced his steps towards his friend, pulling on Ron's sleeve to get him moving. Ron did move, but he seemed to be still awed by the experience of seeing Harry lock Hermione into a cupboard.

"Won't she get out of there?"

Harry shrugged. "I doubt that Hermione will use her wand. Laws against underage magic during the holidays, you know how she is about the rules. Maybe she can break down the door, but that will take a long while. Until then we're hopefully back already. If she isn't found before that, but the castle is quite empty, so our chances are good that we'll go undetected for a while."

Ron wordlessly followed Harry down the corridor, and only as they stopped at a point where they could no longer hear Hermione's shouting he seemed to release his breath.

"Man, she's going to be pissed about that. Totally pissed. Probably won't talk to us for months, if ever again."

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this, Ron. But there was no other way I could think of to get her out of our hair for the moment."

Ron made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat that meant something across the line of _we'll burn that bridge when we come to it_. Harry couldn't agree more. With what he was planning to do in the next hours, worrying about Hermione was quite low on his list of things to worry about.

"Where are we going?", Ron asked as they hurried down yet another staircase. They were heading in the general direction of the entrance hall, that much he was aware of, but he didn't know where exactly Harry wanted to go to. At this question, Harry stopped dead in his tracks, looked around, then pulled Ron into the closest room. It was a classroom, but none that Harry had ever had any lessons in. Probably there for Arithmacy or Ancient Runes, things like that.

"I'm so stupid."

Ron frowned. "Far be it from me to disagree with you, but why?"

"I wanted to go outside before we take the portkey. I thought that maybe the castle is too heavily protected for the portkey to work. But then again, so is Grimmauld Place. I didn't think about that, but the portkey should be set to work even at warded places. At least we can try it out, it might save some time."

Harry put down his backpack and pulled out his invisibility cloak.

"Are you sure that your father isn't in the office? Or his colleague, what was his name?"

"Perkins", Ron supplied. "No, Dad isn't in the office, and Perkins is on holiday. Dad had been constantly droning on about how much work he had to do and that Perkins would only be back at the end of next week. There's a fireplace in Dad's office, we can use that to get back to Hogwarts later."

Harry nodded, though he hadn't yet wasted any time on the thought of how he was going to get back to Hogwarts. If things went the way he hoped they would, then there'd also be Sirius to consider. For now, getting _into_ the Ministry of Magic was his main concern.

"If you think it's safe for you to be visible."

Ron nodded, and so Harry put his backpack back on and wrapped the invisibility cloak tightly around himself, making sure it covered him entirely. Ron pulled out the box that contained the portkey and held it out to Harry.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Good. On the count of three. The portkey should have a few seconds delay, then it'll activate."

"All right", Harry said, feeling his pulse quicken. Ron's hand that was holding the portkey was also shivering slightly. Ron swallowed, then steadied his hand.

"All right. One, two, three."

Harry and Ron simultaneously put their hands on the portkey. For a moment, nothing happened, then Harry felt the familiar tuck behind his navel that seemed to pull him physically away. Harry closed his eyes and hoped that this would all work out.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry had closed his eyes when the portkey had activated, and as the world stood still around him again, he slowly opened them again. They were standing in the crowded, windowless office which Harry had seen a year ago when Mr Weasley had brought him to the Ministry for his hearing. Ironic, really, that last year he had struggled not to get expelled from Hogwarts for the use of underage magic, and now he had returned here to do the same again. But he didn't allow the thought of a possible expulsion to enter his mind. that was not important now, if only he managed to bring Sirius back, then things would somehow fall into place. If only he had his godfather back, then he would gladly do without his final two years at Hogwarts.

Next to Harry, Ron was letting out a deep sigh of relief at finding themselves in an empty office. Obviously, despite all his reassurances that they would not be noticed, he had not been entirely sure that this would go well. But so far, so good. They were in the Ministry of Magic, now Harry only needed to get into the Department of Mysteries. Harry drew the cloak away from his head slightly, so that Ron could see his face but that he could cover himself again quickly in case somebody came. Ron's presence here might be explained more easily than his own in case somebody saw them.

"Ron, why don't you floo back to Hogwarts now? I can make my way downstairs on my own, I've been here before."

Ron frowned and shook his head. "You're mad. You don't honestly think that I'll leave you alone now. Something unforeseen might happen, I could help you with it. You're going to the Department of Mysteries, after all. This is not a field trip, you could run into serious trouble."

Harry nodded slowly. "But then you'd either have to get under the cloak with me or we have to think of something else. The last times we were here, we had visitor's badges." Harry grimly remembered the badges they had gotten a few weeks ago. _Harry Potter, Rescue __Mission_. Quite a rescue mission it had been, Harry thought with a slight stab of pain in his chest. He didn't think that anybody had paid real attention to those badges, especially to their content, but that had been different circumstances. It was evening, there might not be as much business at the Ministry than there was during the day, but still they could encounter quite a number of people who might wonder about the visitor without a visitor's badge.

Ron thought for a moment. "Even if we could get a visitor's badge, I don't think it would get me into the Department of Mysteries without questions. I doubt that just about anybody can walk in there. And it doesn't matter anyway, because we don't have a visitor's badge. Besides, people here know me, or at least they know that I'm Arthur Weasley's son, it would be too obvious if I was walking around here in the evening without my Dad."

Harry nodded again. "Then we have to take the cloak. It might be a little slow, but it's all I can think of."

"Right."

Harry adjusted the backpack on his back, freed a bit more of the invisibility cloak and Ron wrapped it around himself. If Ron grew only a bit more, they soon would not be able to do this anymore. When Harry had gotten the cloak, Ron, Hermione and he had fitted underneath it, but now it was a bit of a struggle at first to keep it closed around just the two of them.

"All right, it should work like that. We just have to walk slowly, so that we don't become visible."

Ron nodded, and they slowly went over towards the door. Harry's biggest problem was that they would have to walk past Auror Headquarters, and he was sure that people were there even during the night. But they'd just have to wait and see what came out of it.

Harry slowly opened the door to Mr Weasley's office and took a peek out. As he had expected, there were the sounds of activity coming from the Auror Headquarters, but he could see nobody close to them who might wonder about the opening door. They snuck out and closed the door behind themselves again, then slowly edged along the corridor towards Auror Headquarters and towards the elevator.

Quite a number of the cubicles in Auror Headquarters were occupied with people working, Aurors bustling to and fro with parchments, reports and pictures in their hands, conversing silently about the cases they were working on, or simply shuffling through their work. Harry looked around, but on the first gaze saw nobody he knew. At least Tonks was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, Harry and Ron shuffled through the corridor between the cubicles, careful not to get into anyone's way. They had to be silent, they could not allow themselves to run into anything, and they could not chance somebody noticing their presence in any way. A few times, they had to halt abruptly without bumping into each other to let an Auror pass them into one of the many cubicles. Harry's heart was beating fast in his chest, so loud that it nearly drowned out the conversation of the Aurors around them.

Two Aurors they passed were talking about having arrested a group of wizards who had planned on breaking into Gringott's. They were very amused by the idea that there were people stupid enough to try and break into the wizarding bank, and one of the Aurors said with a chuckle that it was a pity that they had arrested the perpetrators before they had tried out their plan. Seemingly, he found the idea of the Gringott's goblins getting hold of possible burglars very amusing. Harry shook his head and urged Ron to continue along the corridor. Most small threads of conversation they heard didn't deal with such amusing themes as a near break-in at Gringott's, however. The Aurors who were on duty were conversing silently, as if afraid to speak louder, and every other moment, Harry heard a hushed _You-Know-Who_, or a remark about Death Eaters. It seemed that Fudge's public admission of Voldemort's return had had a serious impact on Auror work, not overly surprising after the two attacks that had taken place. Harry had never heard of Aloysius Vandenberg before Remus had told him about the man, but if he had been one of the top Aurors of the Department, then surely the Aurors were doing their best to both, protect themselves and find out how to stop any possible future attacks.

As they edged farther along the corridor, the elevators still seemingly miles away, Harry's breath caught in his throat as he suddenly saw a well-known face. In the cubicle to their left, Kingsley Shacklebolt sat at his desk and was leafing through a stack of parchments. Harry had at first not recognised the cubicle. On his last visit here a year ago, Kingsley's workplace had been covered with all kinds of pictures of Sirius, as well as a map that had located his possible sightings. Harry stopped and took a deep breath. Of course, with Sirius fallen through the archway, there was no further use in a search for him. It had always been a big advantage that Kingsley had been the one in charge of the search for Sirius, that way the Order could have made sure that he would not be caught, but now the search seemed to have been called off. It was only logical considering what had happened, but still something inside of Harry stung at that thought. Everybody had given Sirius up, everybody but him. And that thought hurt.

Kingsley was leafing through a stack of parchments, sorting them into a number of piles on his overflowing desk. Just as Harry wanted to urge Ron to continue, the Auror suddenly turned around and stared straight at Harry and Ron. The two teenagers froze, and Harry's mind raced. Kingsley could not see them. There was no way that Kingsley could see them under the invisibility cloak. It just wasn't possible. But maybe a piece of the cloak had gotten dislodged without them noticing and now a leg or an arm was sticking out? Harry was standing stock-still, entirely unable to move and check whether the cloak was still in place. _Please don't let him see us. Please don't let this be over, I need to bring Sirius back._ Harry already saw his only chance to save his godfather crumble away in front of him, but then, just as suddenly as he had looked up, Kingsley looked back at his parchments again, pulled out a quill from a drawer and started to write.

Next to Harry, Ron released a silent breath of relief, and the two started to continue their slow crawling towards the elevators. It took a small eternity until they reached the golden grilles that marked the entrance to the elevators. A sinking feeling spread through Harry's stomach, and under the cover of the cloak he looked at Ron. They couldn't get any farther from here. If they called the elevators, they would be noticed. It would be too suspicious if the elevator opened, nobody came out or went in, and then left again. Soundlessly, Ron mouthed _We'll__ wait_ at Harry, and Harry nodded. It was the only thing they could do. They had to wait until either somebody came into Auror Headquarters by elevator, or if somebody left the Headquarters that way. Harry would prefer the first, because that way they'd have the elevator for themselves on their way down to the Department of Mysteries.

So they waited.

And waited.

Harry took a look at his watch. Half past eight. Seemingly, there weren't many comings and goings during the nightshift. Next to him, Ron was nervously shifting from one foot to the other, until Harry put a hand on his arm and stilled him. It was an excruciating wait. The minutes stretched endlessly, and whenever Harry checked his watch after what felt like fifteen, twenty minutes, only three or four minutes had passed.

Finally, after ten minutes to nine, one of the Aurors strode towards the elevators, his arms stacked high with cardboard-folders of files. Good. That way, the man's attention would be focussed on his load and would be less likely to notice the two invisible teenagers. The stack of files swayed dangerously as the man bent down to press the button. Inside the elevator shaft, things began to rattle and move, and maybe twenty seconds later, the golden doors opened and the Auror entered. Harry and Ron slipped in after him, carefully staying to the far side of the elevator to avoid a collision with the man. Harry looked up at the ceiling, but this time there were no memos fluttering around, waiting to be delivered. All the better.

The Auror bent down again to press the button for the Atrium. Again, the stack of cardboard boxes swayed dangerously in his arms, and Harry watched in shock how the thick folder on top got more and more out of balance and finally toppled off the stack and fell down – right on Ron's foot. It gave a heavy thud and the Auror uttered a small curse. Quickly, Harry turned to the right and clamped his hand over Ron's mouth before he could gasp or cry out. He had to bite his own lip, because the first thing Ron did was bite his palm, but he forced them both to remain stock-still and silent.

The Auror put the stack of files on the floor of the elevator, picked the heavy folder up and placed it on top again, then he pulled out his wand and levitated the stack up in front of him. Harry and Ron remained pressed against the wall of the elevator with bated breath, hoping that the man would not brush a leg or dislodge the cloak in his process of sorting his files.

"Easier to levitate", the Auror mumbled to himself. "I told Sheila, but does she ever listen? No. Of course not. Nobody ever listens to Eugene." He made a sound in the back of his throat and turned towards the door. After a few moments, the elevator came to a halt, a female voice announced that they were now in the Atrium, and he levitated his stack of folders out. As the doors closed behind him, Harry and Ron breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"That was close", Ron muttered. Harry nodded.

"You're right. Nearly too close. Let's hope that we don't meet anybody else."

He went over to the row of buttons and pressed the nine which would take them down into the Department of Mysteries. The golden grills closed in front of them, and with a jerk, the elevator started to move downwards again. Harry and Ron stared at the lightened buttons that announced their present level. Harry watched the light shift from third to fourth, then to the fifth and sixth floor. The light jumped to the button for the seventh floor, and suddenly the elevator stopped.

"Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office", the voice announced pleasantly. Harry and Ron retreated to one side of the lift, again pressed up flatly against the wall, and hoped that this would go well. Two witches entered the elevator, one of them pressing the button for the Atrium without really looking at what she was doing. They were engaged deeply in conversation.

"I tell you, this isn't the last we've heard of this, Amelia. Peterson won't stop bothering until we agree to raise his funds for the advertising campaign."

The other witch laughed. "We would, if his advertising campaigns had had any results concerning the use of capacity in the stadiums. But what he calls advertisement campaign hasn't brought us one single spectator more in the past."

"That is only too true." At that moment, the elevator started moving again, and both witches turned towards the row of buttons.

"Why are we going down?", one of them asked. The other only shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe you accidentally pressed both buttons?"

The first witch shook her head. "Impossible."

At that moment, the elevator stopped again and Harry and Ron edged closer to the door.

"Department of Mysteries", the female voice announced, and the two teenagers began pressing through the gap as soon as it opened. Behind them, one of the witches made a small sound in the back of her throat.

"Always those people who press buttons to random levels. It's not as if we had any time to waste with senseless elevator rides, I've been here for long enough today. _Fermere_!"

Much to Harry's shock, the elevator doors began to close again before they had even been fully opened. Ron was already halfway out the elevator, so Harry had to get out as well. He made another step forward, and, without bothering with silence or remaining inconspicuous, he pressed himself through the closing gap. The elevator door closed with a loud, rattling sound behind Harry just after he had squeezed himself through the gap. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but then the elevator started moving upward and he felt a strange pull that drew him backwards, against the elevator. In front of him, he saw Ron's eyes widen.

"Harry, your cloak!"

Harry made a step backwards to that he was not pulled from his feet, then he turned around. His own eyes widened, just like Ron's had done. He had made it out of the gap between the closing elevator doors. His cloak, however, had not made it. It was stuck between the elevator doors, and thanks to the two witches inside, it was pulling him back against the grilled doors, and upwards. Harry gave a sharp pull on his cloak, but nothing happened. He was caught.


	32. Beware of the Things You Set in Motion

**Chapter 32 – Beware of the Things You Set in Motion**

Hermione was furious. No, more than furious. Seething with anger. Livid. Enraged. If she could lay her hands on Harry now, she'd probably strangle him. She knew that both Harry and Ron tended to be rash in certain situations, but this topped everything she had ever seen them do. Locking her into a broom closed, for Merlin's sake! It must have been more than half an hour that she was here now, alone with nothing but the stench of Filch's cleaning detergents. All the time she had been yelling and screaming for somebody to free her, banging her hands onto the wooden door which would not yield under her onslaught. But nobody had heard her. Of course not, after all the castle was positively deserted at this time of year. And Harry knew very well that she would not dare to use magic to free herself. It would be easy to unlock the door with her wand, but then she'd have the Ministry after her.

But Hermione was tempted to break that rule, even though breaking rules was never something she liked to do. But this was about what Harry was trying to do. She needed to stop him before he risked his own life. Necromancy. The word alone sent a shudder down her spine. She had not intensely researched the topic, but the little she knew about it was enough to know that this was way out of Harry's league. He'd only get into real trouble. Probably he'd hurt himself, or worse, and if what Ron had mumbled about a blood connection between Sirius and Remus was true, Harry was also endangering Remus' life with what he was about to do.

And she was here. Locked up in a cupboard by the two people she had always considered her best friends. Merlin be with them when Hermione got out of here and could lay their hands on them. If Harry hadn't killed himself with what he was about to do, Hermione would finish the job.

Again, she began pounding her hands against the massive wooden doors. There had to be over a hundred house-elves enslaved in this castle, why didn't a single one of them come by when she really needed them to?

"Help! Help! Let me out! I'm here in the cupboard! Help!"

Hermione screamed until she thought that her voice would be gone soon. This was of no use, she needed to get out of here, and quickly. She could not risk Harry getting a bigger lead then he already had. Blindly, she groped in her back pocket for her wand.

"Help! Somebody let me out here!"

Just as Hermione was about to pull her wand and unlock the door by magic, she heard steps on the corridor. Quickly pocketing the wand again, she pounded her fists again and again at the door, yelling for whoever was out there to free her. The steps approached, stopped in front of the door, Hermione heard a whispered spell and suddenly the door swung open. With a huge sigh, Hermione stepped out into the corridor, blinking against the light after her time in the darkness.

In front of her, none other than Severus Snape was standing, his arms crossed over his chest, still holding his wand in his hand, his worst glare combined with a raised eyebrow and an impatiently tapping foot directed at her. Great. Of all the people who could have let her out of the cupboard, it had to be Snape.

"Miss Granger? Care to explain this? I know that I'm not being informed about everything, but as far as I know, you are supposed to be on holiday. Maybe at Grimmauld Place, but certainly not in a Hogwarts broom closet. What is going on?"

His voice was sharp and icy, but Hermione was too worked up to notice. Let him threaten her if he wanted, see if Hermione cared. There were more important things now than Severus Snape's wrath.

"Professor Snape, good that you came by", she panted. "Is Professor Dumbledore in the castle?"  
Snape's glare darkened. "I asked you a question, Miss Granger. I'm not the headmaster's personal secretary. Now, what are you doing here?"

Hermione shook her head. "Harry, he locked me in here. Please, we have to get Professor Dumbledore. Harry and Ron, they…they went to the Ministry. Harry thinks he can bring Sirius back. I tried to stop them, but now they're gone. I just wanted to unlock the cupboard myself to get help."

Snape's face darkened at Hermione's word. Darkened in a way Hermione had never seen before.

"Potter did what?"

"He went to the Ministry. Please, we have to hurry Professor."

Snape's face grew more livid and enraged.

"When did he leave? How did he and Weasley get there?"

"Ron had a portkey to his father's office." Hermione checked her watch. "They left maybe half an hour ago. A little more, probably. We have to hurry!"

"_We_ don't have to do anything. I'd say that you and Weasley have done more than enough today", Snape responded, his voice icy. "You'd best go back to Gryffindor Tower now, you're in enough trouble as it is."

And without waiting another beat, Snape turned around and vanished hurriedly into the direction from which he had come. Hermione stared after him, entirely dazed. She was in trouble? Hadn't Snape listened to just one word she had said? After all, she had been the one to tell him what Harry was planning to do, and she had done all she could to stop him and Ron before they did something this stupid. And still he claimed that she was in trouble?

But then again, this was Snape. Professor Dumbledore would surely sort things out. Harry and Ron would be in real trouble, but she could not help them with that. She had told them over and over again that it was stupid, and as a reward for her trouble she had been locked up in a cupboard. Should they worry where that left them. Hermione briskly turned around and walked down the corridor, back to Gryffindor Tower. She was worried about Harry and Ron, but for now she could not do anything. Hopefully, Professor Dumbledore found them before they started this stupidity.

The Fat Lady was enjoying a glass of wine with the Red Knight from a portrait a few corridors down, and she glared at Hermione as she approached and interrupted them.

"Password?"

Hermione started. She didn't have a password.

"But…I don't have a password. I only arrived today, by floo. You must have seen me coming out of Gryffindor Tower earlier."

The Fat Lady shook her head. "No password, no entry. That's the rules."

"But…"

"No buts, dear", the Fat Lady said, her voice annoyed. "So far, only Mr Potter has been here during the summer, and I can't let anybody else in there without the password. Now, if you don't mind, I have a guest to attend do."

The Fat Lady took another sip of the wine and turned towards the Red Knight again, laughing at something unintelligible which he said from behind the visor of his helmet. Hermione stared at them for another few seconds, but it was obvious that the Fat Lady would not let her in without the password. Well, then she'd just have to find someplace else where she could wait for news. She turned away from the portrait, slowly walking down the stairs while she was thinking about where she could go to. Then she had an idea and her steps quickened as she hurried towards the infirmary.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Snape hurried down the corridors and up the staircases as quickly as he could, using all the shortcuts known to him. Potter again! And this time, he had completely outdone himself. Snape had just come from the headmaster's office where he and Dumbledore had talked about the last details of tomorrow's attempt to cut the connection between Lupin and Black, when that infernal yelling and banging had reached his ears and he had turned towards it to investigate what was going on. He had been surprised to find Granger stumbling out of the closet, and even more surprised at what she had told him. He should have known that Potter wouldn't leave off Necromancy. The boy was just as stubborn, single-minded and rash as both, his father and godfather. And probably that would get him killed, just like it got his father and godfather killed. Not that Snape cared, but again it seemed up to him to save Potter's sorry behind from making an awful mistake. Didn't the boy ever think before he acted? Didn't he ever weigh the possible consequences?

Snape didn't know if Dumbledore was still in his office, he had talked about another appointment he had this evening. It was possible that he had already left, but Snape needed to make sure before he went to the Ministry on his own. In any case, he needed to let Dumbledore know. Finally, he reached the gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office, barked the password – another of those fancy muggle sweets – at it and waited impatiently while the entrance opened and revealed the moving staircase that would take him upstairs. Finally, he reached the wooden door and gave a sharp knock. There was no answer. Snape knocked again, and as there still was no answer, he simply opened the door and entered the room.

"Albus!"

There was no response, and as Snape stepped further into the room, he saw that it was empty. So Dumbledore had already left. Darn. Snape quickly went over towards Dumbledore's desk, pulled an empty sheet of parchment towards himself and wrote a quick message to the headmaster. Fawkes was fortunately not near his burning day, and though the phoenix didn't particularly like being used to deliver mail like a common post owl, this was an emergency and Fawkes would have to comply. Slowly, Snape approached Fawkes' perch.

"I need you to find Professor Dumbledore, Fawkes. It's urgent that he gets this message as quickly as possible."

Fawkes looked at Snape with what the potions master imagined to be disapproval in his eyes, but he didn't make a move to bite Snape as he held the rolled parchment out to him. Fawkes took it into his beak and as Snape opened the window, the phoenix spread its wings and soared out into the night-sky. Snape sighed and closed the window behind Fawkes. That was done, now he needed to get to the Ministry and stop Potter before it was too late. Just what he needed. Today saving Potter's life, tomorrow saving Lupin's. One day, he'd probably receive an award for being a benefactor to the wizarding world. He grimaced, then quickly hurried back towards the door. Now he needed to get to the Ministry.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hermione knocked on the infirmary door, and as she received no answer, opened it up and went inside. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen, but the curtains were drawn halfway around one of the beds, shielding it from view of those who came in through the door. Hermione stepped up and lightly wrapped against the frame around the curtains before she stepped around.

Remus was sitting up in bed, an odd assortment of bottles and flasks lined up on a table next to the wall. On his bedside table stood a cup of tea, and Remus was leaning back against a pile of pillows, reading a book. He looked up as he heard Hermione's knock, and his expression turned to a wide-eyed look of surprise as he saw just who was standing at the foot end of his bed.

"Hermione, that's a surprise. Shouldn't you be on holiday? Do take a seat, won't you? What brings you here?"

Hermione stepped closer to the bed and sat down on the chair that stood next to it.

"We came home early from the holiday. But that's not important now."

Remus frowned, sensing that something had happened.

"What's wrong? Why are you here at Hogwarts?"

"Harry. He and Ron cooked up a crazy scheme to go into the Ministry and bring Sirius back. I tried to stop them, and they locked me up in a closet before I could do something."

Within an instant, Remus sat bolt upright in bed.

"Harry went to the Ministry?"

"Yes, he did. Together with Ron. Ron had a portkey which he took from his father, that's how they got in there. He…he wants to go into the Department of Mysteries, to the archway, to try and bring Sirius back. He wants to use…"

"Necromancy", Remus finished for her as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and started looking through the bottles that were lined up on the small table. Hermione's eyes widened.

"You know about that?"

Remus picked up a bottle, read its label, then drank it in one gulp. "I know that he researched Necromancy", he said as he put the empty bottle away and selected a new one. "I told him in no uncertain terms that it was not the way he was searching for. I made him promise that he'd not pursue this any further."

Remus shook his head and drank the contents of two more bottles. There was steam coming out of his ears for a short moment, and some of the paleness in his features vanished. He got up from the bed and looked around for his robe.

"When did Harry leave?"

"Maybe forty, forty-five minutes ago. Professor Snape let me out of the cupboard, he already knows what happened."

"That's good. I need to find him, maybe we can still stop all this before Harry does something really stupid."

He found his robe on the back lean of another chair and shrugged into it. Hermione stepped outside of the curtains while he dressed, then Remus quickly hurried past her towards the infirmary doors. Hermione followed him as fast as she could.

"Should you be up and about? What Ron said about your condition didn't sound like it."

"The little blessings of modern medicine. There were so many different strengthening potions beside my bed that I could boost myself up to the level of an Olympic runner for a time. Don't worry, I won't collapse. Now I only need to find Severus."

"I think he wanted to inform Professor Dumbledore. We should go up to his office."

Remus stopped and turned around towards Hermione. "Hermione, it's better if you stay here. This is serious, and it's nothing you can help with. Let Albus, Severus and me take care of it."

Hermione was about to disagree, but there was a look in Remus' eyes which made all the protest die in her throat. He was probably right. And even if he wasn't, there was no way for her to change his mind.

"What's the password to Gryffindor Tower?"

"Gillyweed. I'll let you know as soon as there are news, I promise. But for now, just stay here."

Without waiting for Hermione to answer, Remus stormed down the corridor and towards the staircases that would take him up to Dumbledore's office. Hermione looked after him, then she sighed and started back towards Gryffindor Tower.

Remus was feeling better than he had done in days. He knew that this would only last for about three or four hours, and that he'd probably feel even worse after that, but until then they would have hopefully found Harry. Him taking the potions just now had interfered with Snape's plans for giving him the poison tomorrow, his former classmate had been very explicit about that earlier today. Well, Remus couldn't change that now, he'd fight that struggle with Severus when there was time for it.

About halfway up the stairs, he suddenly heard steps coming into his direction. A few moments later, Snape came around a bend and towards Remus. He looked surprised to see his former classmate up and about again, but the look of surprise quickly turned into one of annoyance, as usual when he saw Remus.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hermione told me what happened. Albus is on his way?"

"You shouldn't be here at all. Or are you intending to collapse and get yourself killed?"

"I took a couple of Pepper-Up Potions. And before you start yelling at me, I know very well that this interferes with your plans. But for now, we need to look after Harry. You won't get rid of me, so you can as well tell me all you know."  
Snape glared coldly at Remus, then he waved Remus off. "Potter and Weasley went to the Ministry. But I'm sure Miss Granger already told you that. I wanted to inform the headmaster, but he is not there. He had an appointment in Edinburgh, as far as I know, and was already about to leave when I came from his office earlier. I sent a note with Fawkes, and now I'm on my way to the Ministry to stop Potter before he does something he might regret."

Remus nodded and fell into step next to Snape. "All right, I'll come with you. You're intending to use the floo?"

"Yes. There are some things I want to take from the infirmary first, then I'll take the floo from there."

Remus of course noticed that Severus was still talking about _I_, but as long as he didn't actively try to stop him, Remus didn't quite worry about in which person the other was talking. He needed to get to Harry now, needed to stop him before he unleashed something that was too much for him to deal with.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry pulled and tugged on his cloak, but it was caught in the elevator doors and he could not free it. Frantically, he tugged and pulled, but the elevator was restlessly moving upward, pulling Harry's cloak with him.

"Ron, help me!"

Harry wanted to free himself, the movement of the elevator was pulling him upward as well. He already had to stand on tiptoe when Ron stepped up to his side and started to pull on his cloak. Together the two of them pulled with all their might, but the cloak stayed lodged in the elevator door.

"Harry, let go!"

But Harry shook his head and continued to pull. He would not give up his father's cloak, not here, not now.

"No. Pull!"

The elevator continued to move, but both Ron and Harry did not let go until the elevator pulled both of them off the ground. As their combined bodyweight was hanging from the cloak, there was the sound of tearing fabric, and a moment later, they were lying on the floor of the corridor, the cloak lying crumpled between them, still tightly in Harry's grasp.

"Man", Ron panted. "That was close."

Harry nodded, then he quickly remembered where they were and looked up sharply. In front of them, there was the familiar corridor that led into the Department of Mysteries, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief as he found it to be empty. There was nobody around who could have seen their little stunt with the invisibility cloak, nobody who could not stop them from what Harry intended to do. He scrambled up to his feet and looked at the damage that had been done to his cloak. There was a huge tear in the fabric, about twelve inches long, but otherwise the cloak seemed a bit rumpled, but not damaged. Maybe the torn pieces could be sewn back together. Next to Harry, Ron slowly got back up as well.

"What do we do now?"

Harry breathed in deeply and looked down the corridor. The torches were throwing only a dim light, but it was enough to see the dark door at the end of the corridor.

"Now we go in", Harry said and draped the cloak back around them. He had to pay attention to the tear in the fabric, but that could not be helped now. It was possible that somebody saw their legs, but there was no turning back from here now for Harry. Torn invisibility cloak or not.

They continued down the corridor towards the door.

Harry was sure that they were still invisible for the most part, yet it seemed as if the door somehow knew that they were there. Just before they reached it, it soundlessly swung open and revealed the circular room behind. Harry looked down at them, but didn't see any trace that their cloak was not covering them right now. Maybe there was some sort of spell on the door, like those muggle devices that automatically opened the doors when somebody was approaching. Maybe one didn't need to be visible for this to work. Maybe Harry just didn't care about why the door opened, for as long as it did open for them. They stepped into the room, and Ron closed the door behind them. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. The room was still the same. Circular, with about a dozen doors, and small blue torches throwing a very dim light against the walls. Harry suddenly remembered what would happen next, and he quickly pulled a piece of chalk from his jeans pocket and turned around, marking the door that was the Exit with a white E. It was a good idea to take a leaf out of Hermione's book, because as soon as the door was closed, the room slowly began to rotate around them.

"Not that again", Ron whispered, a tiny notion of fear in his voice. "Do we have to try all the doors again until we find the right one?"

Harry shrugged. Actually, he had not thought that far. But Ron was right, there was no way of telling which of those doors would lead them to the Death Chamber. He pulled out his wand with his right hand and shifted the piece of chalk to his left hand.

"I guess we'll have to."

He strode over towards the door straight ahead, pulling Ron with him. Again, the door opened as soon as they approached, and Harry and Ron stepped through.

They found themselves in another dark room, a huge, eerie looking aquarium covering its entire left side. Strange creatures were moving in the dark water, but Harry didn't pause long enough to took a closer look.

"That's not the one, let's try another."

They went out, and before the room could rotate and confuse them again, he marked the door with a large X in chalk. The door closed, the room rotated around again, and Harry and Ron tried another door. They had to try three more doors before they found themselves in the Death Chamber, standing on the top tier of the stone benches that led down towards the archway which stood on its platform, the veil fluttering slightly as if there was a draft of air in the huge room. Harry breathed in and stared down at the archway for a few moments.

The Death Chamber. The place where Grindelwald had disposed of his political enemies. The place where the Dementors had come into the wizarding world. Cold sweat was running down Harry spine as he thought of all the things that had happened in this chamber before, but he forced himself to remain calm.

"What now?", Ron asked next to him. Harry breathed in deeply and turned to face his friend.

"I have to do this alone, Ron. You're in enough trouble as it is, staying here would only pull you deeper into this." Seeing that Ron was about to disagree, Harry shook his head. "No, Ron." He took his backpack firmly in one hand and held the invisibility cloak out to Ron.

"Take the cloak and go out again. Mark the door that leads to the Death Chamber with a small mark, wipe off all the Xs, and mark the exit with a smaller E. In case somebody comes down here, our marks are far too obvious, they'll know immediately that somebody was in here. I don't know how many Unspeakables there are, but I don't want to take chances. In case somebody comes, you need to make sure that I don't get disturbed."

Ron looked slightly pale, but his hand numbly closed around the piece of chalk Harry handed him.

"But what am I supposed to do if somebody comes in here?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. Think of something. I don't think that anybody will come here in the middle of the night, but if somebody does, they can't come into the Death Chamber."

Ron still looked uncomfortable, but he slowly nodded. "All right. How long do you think this will take?"

Harry shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea Ron. I don't hope it will take too long."

Ron nodded again and made a step towards the door, but turned again. "All right. Good luck then."

"Thanks."

Ron looked as if he was about to say something else, but then he only smiled shakily and left through the door. Harry waited until the door was closed behind him, then he turned around towards the archway again and slowly began to descend the stone stairs. The closer he came to the archway, the taller the structure seemed to become. Now he could see the engravings Dumbledore had spoken about days ago, when they had talked about the archway and the Death Chamber. They were so faint that they looked like cracks in the stone, but once Harry knew what they really were, they actually seemed like writing. Though not in any language Harry knew. Harry shuddered at the thought that those writings bore the formula to draw power from the witches and wizards which had been thrown through the archway. The veil was still fluttering ominously, and for a moment Harry contemplated whether he would end up where Sirius was now, if he simply stepped through it. Immediate death, Dumbledore had said. Well, Sirius was not dead yet, and with that firm thought, Harry ore himself out of those stupid musings. He had a lot of things to do. Quickly he put his backpack down onto the ground, pulled out the candles, a piece of chalk, his knife and the book Dobby had stolen for him, as well as the notes he had made while reading the book. His hands were shaking slightly as he opened up the book and unfolded his parchments. He re-read a certain passage, then he picked up a piece of chalk and began.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus knew that Snape was angry, and he could sympathise with him. They had flooed to the Ministry Atrium, the only fireplace in the Ministry of Magic where one could floo to without using a password. And there, their quest to reach Harry before something went wrong had come to an untimely end. They had already stormed towards the elevators at the far end of the Atrium when the watchwizard had jumped up from behind his desk and stopped them. Remus had left the talking to Snape, mostly because he and the watchwizard were already both talking and shouting at each other and no matter what Remus had said he wouldn't have been heard, anyway. Besides, Remus thought that Snape did quite a good job in explaining to the watchwizard that they were here to prevent possible disaster down in the Department of Mysteries, but it was as if the watchwizard didn't hear what he said at all. He insisted on them having their wands recorded and get official visitor's badges before they moved anywhere, much less to the Department of Mysteries. In the end, Remus cuffed Snape harshly in the ribs to make him shut up.

"I know he's annoying", he whispered, "but we'll be a lot faster if we let him have his way now."

Snape glared at him and didn't seem convinced, but nevertheless he handed his wand over to the watchwizard. The man flashed a triumphant grimace at Snape, then began noting the specifics of his wand. Five minutes later, the watchwizard was finally satisfied, Remus and Snape both had a visitor's badge flashing from the front of their robes, and Snape was as angry as Remus had ever seen him. Remus knew that probably Snape was adding up all inconveniences and annoyances of the day, only to let Harry feel the full force of his accumulated wrath. Remus could sympathise with Severus' feelings. First of all, they were here because Harry was about to do something completely stupid, something both Snape and he had told him explicitly not to do, and now they also had to struggle with those petty Ministry bureaucrats. That didn't exactly help to lighten one's mood, Remus knew that. They pressed the button and waited for an elevator to come.

"What did you write to Albus?"

Snape grunted. "I told him what Potter is about to do, and that he should come immediately. I imagine he might inform other Order members, if he thinks we're in need of reinforcements."

The statement made it clear that Snape was not here for chit-chat, so Remus shrugged and turned back towards the closed elevator doors. Of course, he was angry at well. If he had Harry standing before him right now, he'd probably yell at him with all his might, though yelling was normally not something he resorted to. But right now he felt like yelling. Just how stupid an idea was it for an underage wizard with no talent whatsoever to perform Necromancy to try using a necromantic rite to bring his godfather back? On top of Remus' personal list of stupidities, this scheme came on place two directly after sending a classmate down the Whomping Willow Passage on a full moon night. And Merlin, had he been angry when that had happened. He'd make sure that Harry got out of this all right, and then he'd give him a piece of mind about what he'd done. Snape was not the only one who could get angry.

Finally, an elevator arrived and Snape stepped in before the doors had even opened fully. Remus followed him and pressed the button with the number nine on it. He noticed that Snape had his wand out and resting beside his leg, as if he expected having to use it any moment now. Remus felt his own heart beating fast in his chest. They had lost a lot of time. Harry and Ron had probably left directly after they had locked Hermione in the closet. Of course the two teenagers might not have been able to get directly down into the Department of Mysteries, but Snape and he had lost at least an hour on them. First Hermione had been locked up in the closet, then they had informed Dumbledore and prepared to leave. Snape had insisted on taking some potions from the infirmary with them, and then the watchwizard here had cost them at least ten more minutes. And they weren't even in the Department of Mysteries yet. Of course, if anybody had seen Harry and Ron, they would have stopped the two teenagers. But Remus didn't delude himself. Harry had James' old invisibility cloak, and he'd bet everything he owned on it that the two teenagers had been sneaking around here under its protection.

After a long ride that seemed to stop at every level, they finally reached level nine and got out. The watchwizard had told them in no uncertain terms that visitors were not allowed below level eight, but personally Remus thought that if they didn't want people to go down there, then they should post a guard down in the corridor. But there was no guard, just like there hadn't been a guard a bit less than three months ago when Remus had been in the Department for the last time. Interesting how little the Department of Mysteries seemed to care about protecting its secrets. Not Remus' concern though, he needed to find Harry and Ron. Snape was storming down the corridor as soon as the elevator doors opened, and Remus quickly followed him.

There was nobody in the corridor with them, so they ran towards the door that would lead them into the Death Chamber. As they were halfway down the corridor, however, something moved to their right and suddenly Ron was standing there. As Remus had guessed, he was holding Harry's invisibility cloak in his hand. The teenager was pale as a wraith and he was staring at Remus and Snape with wide eyes. No wonder, Remus thought with a mirthless internal chuckle. After all, Ron had certainly never been a member of the Severus Snape-Fan club, Snape could be very intimidating on a good day, and he guessed that they both were looking rather angry now. And with their arrival here, Ron knew that he and Harry were definitely caught now.

"Where is Potter?", Snape had barked out even before he had stopped running. Ron paled even further, and Remus imagined he was probably thinking about his mother's reaction when she got to know about this. Remus wouldn't want to face Molly's wrath about that stunt, but then again Ron had brought that upon himself. He had gotten himself into that mess, he'd have to bear with her now.

"Weasley, where is Potter?", Snape repeated when Ron didn't immediately answer. Weakly, Ron raised a hand and gestured towards the door.

"In…in there. He's in the Death Chamber."

Snape let out a loud curse upon hearing that. "For how long?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. Twenty, twenty-five minutes maybe. I was slowly getting worried that something has gone wrong."

Snape glared coldly at Ron. "You can be glad if he's still alive. I highly doubt it", was all he said, then he stormed towards the door, which opened as soon as he approached. Remus wanted to follow him, but then he saw that Ron also made move to come along and stopped again.

"You stay here, Ron. Professor Dumbledore should be on his way, wait here for him and tell him what happened when he arrives."

Ron didn't look too pleased at the prospect, but Remus didn't wait for him to agree. He was already storming after Snape.

"I've marked the right door with an X in the lower left corner", Ron called after him. Remus nodded, though he could not immediately make sense of his words. Which door, and why marked it? Absent-minded, he nodded his head at Ron while he was trying to catch up with Snape. The door at the end of the corridor glided open as the two wizards passed it, and Remus pulled it close behind himself.

"_Lumos_!"

The light from Snape's wand illuminated the circular chamber they now were in, and upon seeing the room again, Ron's words suddenly made sense to Remus. Of course, the teenager would not know that to a fully educated wizard, there were other means to find the right door on the first try. The chamber rotated around them and Snape was already pointing his wand, but then Remus saw the small white X in the lower corner of one of the doors and pushed Snape's arm down. Snape immediately withdrew his arm as if Remus' touch was transferring something contagious.

"That's the door", Remus said, and made a step forward to open it. Snape made a grunting noise in the back of his throat, but he followed Remus as the other wizard stepped out into the Death Chamber. As Remus stepped out onto the top tier of stone benches and took a good look around the Chamber, he had a hard time not to cry out in frustration.


	33. The Call of The Blood

**Chapter 33 – The Call of The Blood**

Snape was not as successful as Remus was to hold back a curse. Instead, he allowed it to slip out, though he wasn't behind it with all his heart. Instead his thoughts were racing. The stupid, arrogant little brat. Up to this moment, Snape had not believed that Potter would really pull this through, and what he saw now made his blood run cold. It simply could not be.

The Chamber was only dimly lit by a few torches that were spread around the walls behind the top tier of stone steps. The only illumination in the pit at the base of the seats was provided by five thick candles. Potter had drawn a double circle around himself and the archway, a pentagram drawn inside of the circles so that the tips of its points touched the outer circle. The five candles were positioned at the tips of the pentagram, and Potter was kneeling opposite of the archway, arms outstretched, deep in trance. Inwardly, Snape cringed. Potter had drawn the pentagram so that the archway and its platform were enclosed by two of the pentagram's points, and he was kneeling so that he didn't touch any line of the pentagram. So far, so good. But the circles he had drawn were far too small, Potter was kneeling far too close to the archway. The main point that Potter was not a Necromancer put aside, this carelessness could cost him his life even if he were a Necromancer. But he wasn't, and trying to walk into the netherworld if one didn't have the inborn ability to do so was as good as committing suicide, anyway.

After a moment of unmoving stupor, Snape hurried down the stairs towards Potter. Lupin was already well on his way, and Snape had to hurry to reach him before he did something equally stupid than what Potter was currently doing. Lupin wanted to storm to Potter's side, but Snape held him back with his hand on the other's sleeve.

"Cross the line and you'll kill him and Black both, maybe yourself as well. We need to do this differently."

Lupin stopped and stared at Snape, the question evident in his eyes. Snape thought for a moment, then pulled out his wand.

"_Accio chalk_!"

The piece of chalk with which Harry had drawn the circle flew into Snape's hand and he lost no time with further explanations. Instead, he bent down and drew another circle around the outer one which Harry had drawn, carefully minding that the lines were about six feet away from each other. He had to remove Potter's utensils to make space, and as he lifted a small stack of parchments with notes in Potter's unreadable scrawl on them, he was in for the second shock that evening. Underneath the parchments there was a book, one which Snape knew only too well. He picked it up, opened the cover to make sure, but there was no mistaking it. This was his very own book, the one he kept locked up in a cabinet in his private rooms. The one of which he had thought to have made sure that nobody else would ever lay his hands on it. And now Potter had it. Snape felt his anger towards Potter surge up to levels he had so far thought impossible. The only thing he wanted to do now was to pack up his possession and leave Potter to the fate he had brought upon himself. A hand on his arm startled him out of his rage.

"Severus?"

Snape turned and found Lupin standing next to him, his hand still on his arm. He quickly jerked away and waved the book accusingly under the werewolf's nose.

"Care to explain this to me?"

Lupin looked down at the book, rose his eyebrows in obvious confusion, then looked up at Snape again.

"I'm afraid I can't. What is this?"

Snape grunted angrily and carefully placed the book on one of the lower stone benches.

"I should just leave him here. Let him see what comes out of it."

"Severus, I know that you're angry at Harry. You have every right to be. But just let us get him out of this mess, then you can think about an adequate punishment. No matter how angry you are, death certainly isn't it."

Snape grunted again and carelessly threw Potter's notes on the floor away from the circle. There was also a knife lying on the floor, its tip encrusted with dark red blood. Well, at least Potter had gotten that part right. Snape picked up the knife, cleansed it with a quick spell, then pointed his wand at the chalk-drawings on the floor.

"_Enlargo_!"

Slowly, the tips of the pentagram were stretching outward, the candles moving until they came to rest on the chalk-circle Snape had drawn a few moments ago. Snape picked up the knife and stepped up to the nearest candle, mindful not to touch either the chalk lines or the candle itself. He drew the sharp blade of the knife across the palm of his left hand and waited until blood welled up. Snape drew a deep breath and listened closely inside of himself. This was it, the decision he had sworn never to make. If he continued now, there was on going back. Snape didn't even know if he was sufficiently trained to do this, but he knew that Potter had already crossed a point from where he could not return without guidance. The border between life and death was a tricky thing, and opening up a portal in between those worlds was dangerous. Very dangerous. It was not a door that could be easily closed, and it was certainly not a door Potter was able to close again. Remarkable that he had been able to open it in the first place, but Snape guessed that the archway had played a big role there. It was, after all, already a halfway open portal.

It was no decision, really. Not as if Snape had a choice in the matter. If he didn't act now, Potter would be dead in a few minutes. Snape didn't like Potter, not a little bit. The brat had gotten though with so many things that would have gotten others who didn't have his fame expelled or even arrested, and he always relied blindly that things would work out for him, just because he was bloody Harry Potter. But no matter how little he liked Potter, Snape knew that he could not let him die just like that. Grudgingly, he had to admit that there was no other decision he could make, his personal demons be damned. Those he would have to deal with once all this was over, in case he survived this.

Snape breathed in deeply and reached out deep into his memory, recalling the proper incantations. Contrary to Potter, he didn't need a book for this, and it scared him how quickly those incantations were present and usable in his mind. Murmuring the words, he made a fist and let a drop of blood fall into the candle's flame where it sizzled and burnt, the light of the candle temporarily fluttering, but not going out. Slowly, all the while muttering incantations, Snape went around the circle and repeated the process with the remaining four candles. He was beginning to feel slightly light-headed, and he knew that it wasn't from the blood-loss. The cut on his hand hadn't bled badly, and it was already clotting up again. No, this was what his great-grandfather had always referred to as 'the call of the blood', and the feeling sent a thrill of fear through Snape. There was no turning back now.

As he had completed his circle, he turned towards Lupin.

"As soon as Potter wakes up, tell him to leave the circles. Slowly, and he mustn't disturb the lines or touch the candles. As soon as he does, vanish the inner chalk circle. Keep an eye on the archway, and whatever happens, try to stay conscious. This affects Black, so it will certainly affect you as well, one way or another. I don't know what will happen to you, but you have to try and stay conscious. Understood?"

Remus nodded and without another word Snape knelt down directly behind Harry, in the circle he himself had drawn but outside of Harry's circle. He was careful not to touch any of the lines, while facing the archway at a safe distance. He breathed in deeply, then closed his eyes and stretched out his hands towards Harry's head, the cut on his left hand throbbing in time with his accelerating pulse. This was going to become difficult. It was not just him involved in this, Potter had already walked ahead, and before Snape did anything, he had to bring Potter back from the edge of the cliff he was currently hovering on.

He had not done this in a very long time, had thought this part of him buried too deep to ever be awoken again, but right now he didn't have a choice. It didn't matter now that the only times when he had used his family heritage that way had been on Voldemort's command, and back then he had always pretended that his abilities were not strong enough to pull it though to the very end. He had never attempted to perform Necromancy with another person involved, and never in a scale where so many lives were at stake, but as soon as his fingertips touched Potter's temples he felt the well-known surge of magic shoot through them, felt how the hidden knowledge in his blood began to take control of his thoughts and actions. There was no turning back now. If Potter had gone too far already, then both of them would be lost.

It was only a matter of seconds until Snape was no longer aware of the fact that he was kneeling on the cold stone floor in the Death Chamber. His body was merely a shell he had left behind to send his mind out towards the netherworld. He knew that most probably the archway would react to that connection, the veil would flutter and voices would emerge from behind it. Hopefully only voices. Knowing what he did about the archway, there was the remote possibility that other things would try to use the recently created portal. He only hoped that Lupin was aware and vigilant, because neither he nor Potter would be in the shape to do anything for quite some time after this.

Necromancy was one of the oldest and also one of the most feared powers known to the wizarding world. For centuries, many a witch and wizard had been fascinated by the possibility to cheat death. Fortunately, only a small number of wizards had the ability to act according to this desire. It was a gift - or rather, a curse - which was passed on through the generations in some of the oldest wizarding families. The ones who had the talent were able to move their minds, souls and magic into the space where no one living was supposed to walk. But not only that, the gift was to actually call those souls back. Of course there were conditions and problems. It was not possible to bring just any vanished soul back to life again, and one reason why Snape had flat out refused to help Lupin with his mad scheme was that not even a Necromancer could control just what shape the soul was in once it was brought back. Many times, there had been a darkness and a shadow left on the ones who had been thusly revived that had left them unrecognizable to how they had been before. There were just too many variables to consider, too much that could not be predicted to call this branch of magic safe. It was one reason why Necromancy had been officially forbidden for over a hundred years now, and it was a reason why Lord Voldemort had always been very keen on having a talented and trained Necromancer amongst his ranks.

Snape had the talent, a strong talent indeed, but he had not been trained and that had always been his one way of escaping the worst of what Voldemort had demanded of him. When the first war had been over, and Snape had made definite decisions about whom he no longer wanted to serve, Snape had sworn never to make use of this family heritage again.

And now he was kneeling here, trying to break the connection Potter had established to save the foolish boy, and then he would have to continue what Potter had so stupidly begun.

As Black had fallen though the archway and thusly had left no body for them to perform the rite with, the magic had to be channelled through the archway through which he had vanished. It was straining, took more power, because to complete the rite he would also need to bring Black's body back from behind the veil.

Through the grey and black mist surrounding him Snape became aware of Potter's presence, holding on tightly to the thin and frail connection he had established with what lay behind the veil. But his strength was already running out, he could not hold on for much longer. Snape could easily hold the connection as it was now, he could nourish it further and open up the portal he'd need to bring Black back, but for that Potter had to let go and had to retreat.

_-- Potter, let go!_

He met only silence and knew exactly that his student was ignoring him on purpose. Probably also was surprised to suddenly feel Snape being with him, judged from how the connection suddenly wavered. Snape quickly focussed some of his energy on steadying the connection again. That much for Potter's preparation, he knew next to nothing about what really needed to be done to bring his precious godfather back.

_-- Potter, I said let go! You can't hold up this connection on your own!_

This time he received an answer, though it only enraged him further.

_-- I can. I have to bring Sirius back!_

_-- Stupid boy! You can't bring him back, you'll only get yourself killed, and Black and Lupin as well!_

_-- I know I can do this!_

_-- And I know that you can't! Let go now, Potter, I will continue from here._

Snape's relationship with Potter had always been bad, often to the degree that one of them disagreed with the other just for the sake of it. He should have known that Potter would not willingly comply with his demand to let go. The problem was, they would not get very far if Potter kept this attitude up for much longer. If Potter's strength ran out, he'd be dead, and Snape probably as well.

_-- You might have read about Necromancy, but you are not a Necromancer yourself. If you continue,_ _you will only kill yourself._

_-- But I have to bring Sirius back!_

_-- You **can't**, try to understand that. You will only kill yourself._

When Potter answered again, his voice was more distant, weaker. Snape knew they would not have much more time before Potter's little strength to hold up this much magic ran out.

_-- But it's the only way to bring him back._

_-- Yes, but not for you. I know how to do it, let me continue._

Potter hesitated, and Snape knew why. Were the situation any different, he would probably not react any differently. He seemingly couldn't make Potter understand, but he needed to.

_-- I have to continue this, Potter, but as long as you're here I can't. You have to understand that if_ _there is anybody who can finish this, it isn't you. It's me._

_-- But…_

_-- You have to trust me._

Snape had never thought he'd ever say those words to Potter, but right now it was true. He needed Potter to trust him, otherwise they'd both not survive this.

_-- Potter, you don't have the strength to pull this through. I have, and I can end this. I can bring Black_ _back if it is possible, and I will have to try because you started something that has to be completed. But you have to let_ _go now and trust me that I will end this._

Still Potter hesitated, though Snape could feel his resolve falter ever so slightly.

_-- Trust me on this, Potter._

_-- Please bring him back._

Those were Potter's last words, then to Snape's great relief he felt the teenager's presence retreat. Once he was sure that Potter had indeed vanished, he shook all thoughts of his student from his mind and focussed solely onto the task at hand. Find Black, bring him back if possible, and try to stay alive.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus didn't like what was going on here. He had hoped so much that they would find Harry before he started this, but they had come too late. They had been too late. And now he could only sit back and wait for Severus to set things right again. He hated helpless waiting, more than he hated anything else, but right now there was nothing else left for him to do.

Endless minutes passed during which he watched Snape kneel motionlessly behind Harry, who was kneeling equally unmoving in front of the archway. But contrary to Severus, Harry was as pale as a wraith, there was sweat on his face and his arms were shaking slightly. His strength was running out, and Remus found himself biting his nails nervously. Let go, Harry, Remus murmured inwardly. Please let go and let Severus do the rest.

But it took endless minutes until Harry showed the first signs of returning form his trance. The first thing Remus wanted to do as he realized that Harry was slowly coming back again was storm over and take the teenager into a steadying hug, but he knew that he could not cross the lines Harry and Severus had drawn. So he had to helplessly sit back and watch how Harry's breathing grew rapid and harsh, until he finally drew in a deep, shuddering breath and slumped forward, catching himself barely with his hands. Remus was up on his feet and beside the chalk circle immediately.

"Slow, Harry. Breathe in deeply, wait until you feel well enough to sit up straight again."

Remus didn't know if Harry had heard him, but the teenager remained in this position for another minute or two, then he slowly pushed himself off the floor and back into a kneeling position again. He opened his eyes and slowly turned his head, taking in that he was in the Death Chamber, kneeling in front of the archway. Slowly, he seemed to remember where he was and why he was here, then he looked around farther until he faced Remus.

"What…?"

Remus shook his head.

"Not now, Harry. You know where you are?"

Harry nodded.

"You feel well enough to get up and walk?"

"I…I don't know. Give me another couple of minutes."

"As soon as you feel that you can, you have to get up and come over to me. Do not touch the chalk circles on the floor, and stay clear of the candles. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and remained in his momentary position, focussing on his breathing. But Remus had another problem at hand. His head started to ache slightly and there was a tingling feeling starting to spread behind his temples. It was the same feeling that had always announced one of his seizures, but right now was the worst possible moment for something like that.

Stay conscious. Just try to stay conscious.

It was not easy to fight the dizziness down. The last seizure had been a few days ago, longer than the third had come after the second, but still. There had been a full moon in between, and only this morning he had been feeling so weak that he could not even have moved around. Pepper-Up Potion or not, he was in a very weak condition, and it was hard to fight down the light-headedness and nausea that was rising up rapidly.

Focus. Stay conscious.

Maybe his dizziness had something to do with what Severus was doing, maybe it would be over before there was a seizure. Hopefully.

Movement caught his eye and as he turned his head he saw Harry slowly rise to his feet. His legs still seemed slightly wobbly, but he managed to leave the chalk circles without touching any of the lines. As soon as Harry had left the outer circle, Remus pulled out his wand and vanished the inner one with a quick wave. Now only the outer circle Harry had drawn as well as the circle Severus had put around Harry's circles to enlarge the pentagram remained, the candles still burning and throwing a flickering and eerie light on the scene inside of the chalk-circles.

But Remus didn't pay any attention to what was going on inside the chalk-circles for the moment, he quickly put his wand back into its holster and with a few quick strides went over towards Harry. The teenager was pale and shaking, there were tears running down his cheeks and Remus immediately wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly against his chest. Harry was barely able to keep himself upright any longer, he leaned into Remus with almost all his weight, but Remus didn't say anything. He held him, steadied him and allowed Harry to cry. As they had hurried into the Ministry, Remus had been extremely angry at Harry for daring to do something as dangerous and stupid as that, but for the moment all the anger had vanished. Harry didn't need a lecture now, he needed someone to hold on to. The harsh words could wait for a bit longer.

"Shhh, it's all right, Harry. It will be all right."

"I only wanted to bring him back. I thought I could do it, I didn't want to risk his life or yours. I'm sorry. I only wanted to bring him back."

"I know, and it's all right. We can talk about it later. If there is anybody who can bring Sirius back now, then it's Severus. It was good that you let go and allowed him to take over."

"I didn't want to, at first. I thought…I thought he didn't want to bring Sirius back after I let go, that he only said it so that I would retreat."

"But he didn't. Now why don't you sit down for a moment, you need to rest. It was no small thing you did just now, you must feel quite exhausted. As soon as possible I want you checked through in a hospital."

Harry didn't even protest against the notion of another hospital visit, instead he allowed Remus to lead him over towards one of the stone benches and sat down heavily. He was shivering with exhaustion, and Remus quickly shrugged out of his robe and wrapped it tightly around Harry's shoulders.

"Comfortable for the moment?"

Harry nodded, wearily leaning against his former teacher's side to stay upright. The dizzy feeling in Remus' head had only increased over the past few minutes, but he did not allow himself to think about it all too much. Harry was back, now it was up to Severus to decide the rest. Remus was sure that Harry wasn't even aware of what he had forced his least-liked professor into. Remus was no expert in Necromancy, but he knew that Severus was right now putting his own life at stake because of what Harry had started. There were only two things left to do for him. One was to keep an eye on the archway, and the second was for him to stay conscious. The latter was proving more and more difficult. His head was aching fiercely, yet at the same time it felt as if he was being spun around in small circles, causing a feeling of disorientation and vertigo. He shifted uncomfortably on the bench next to Harry and massaged his temples. Harry looked at him worriedly.

"Are you all right?"

Remus quickly nodded and straightened up, pulling his wand and focussing on the archway again.

"Yes, I am. A headache, but nothing serious. Severus said we should keep an eye out on the archway, you think you can manage to help me a bit?"

Harry nodded, fully aware that Remus had changed the topic on purpose. He nodded.

"Sure. But what is he worried about?"

"I'm not so sure, to be honest. But considering what has gone through that archway over the years, we should be prepared for anything." Seeing that Harry's eyes widened slightly, Remus quickly sought to reassure. "Though I really don't think anything will happen. But it's better to be safe than sorry. Constant vigilance, remember?"

That brought indeed a slight smile to Harry's face, though it was short-lived. Remus noticed that the teenager seemed to grow wearier by the minute, the strain the strong and complex magic had put him through was taking its toll on him. Remus was actually surprised that he was still able to keep his eyes open. After Remus had asked him to keep his eyes on the archway, Harry had drawn his wand, but his right hand hung limply at his side and he leaned heavily into Remus. Remus wrapped his arm around Harry and held him tightly.

Severus was still kneeling inside of the chalk-circle, his arms outstretched towards the archway. He was not holding his wand, but Remus knew that he didn't need it for this. Other than a slight shaking of his body, he had not moved since he had begun. The only significant change had been in the archway, already when Harry had still been involved in the magical performance. The veil had begun to flutter, as if a soft breeze was blowing from behind. There was no movement of the air in the Death Chamber which could have caused this movement, especially not from behind the archway. Whatever moved the veil was coming from where Sirius had vanished to. And if Remus' keen senses didn't betray him, a soft glow had started to shine around the archway, or rather from behind the veil. It was only dim, but as the chamber down here was not lightened by anything but the five candles, it was visible. And it grew stronger.

Remus could not help it, a feeling of dread and doubt overcame him. Of course it could not be changed anymore, but Remus asked himself if they were doing the right thing here. If they had forced Severus to do the right thing. They were tampering around with death here, and there was absolutely no guarantee that they would manage to bring Sirius back with it. Or that they would bring him back the way he had been before. That would be even worse, Remus mused. What if they managed to bring Sirius back, but his soul had been irreversibly damaged by being caught in the void?

Next to him, Harry was shivering now and it tore Remus out of his musings about the rightfulness of what they were doing.

"Are you all right?"

Harry nodded, though it cost him some effort to do so.

"Where does the light come from?"

The glow of the archway was indeed getting stronger, and rapidly so. The movement of the veil increased, but it was hard for Remus to focus on it. His vision was blurring, sweat started to break out on his forehead and breathing became more and more difficult. He needed to remain conscious, Remus tried to remind himself. If he fell unconscious, nobody knew what this would cause. They didn't know what kind of influence his blood-bond with Sirius had on the attempt to bring him back.

"Remus?"

Harry's worried voice sounded farther away than it actually was, and Remus focussed on waving an assuring gesture at Harry. The stronger the archway began to glow, the harder he had to fight against his drowsiness. But he had to stay conscious.

"Remus, what is happening there?"

With a huge effort, Remus focused his gaze on the archway again, struggling to control his breathing. The glow from the archway was blindingly bright now, completely covering the feeble light of the candles. What was remarkable was that the chalk circle seemed to contain the light, it did not spread any farther than towards the white line on the floor. The column of bright white light inside the outer chalk-circle rose from the floor to the ceiling, and it had swallowed Snape as well as the archway completely, to a degree that both could not be seen anymore. A soft, flapping noise was the only sound they heard, just as if the old and tattered veil was being moved by a strong wind.

"I don't know", Remus answered truthfully. His vision swam again and he had to close his eyes to fight down his nausea and vertigo. He could not hold on to consciousness for much longer, no matter how important he knew it was.

"Remus, what's wrong with you?"

Harry knelt down next to him and for a moment Remus wondered when he had gone down on his knees. He tried to draw breath to answer, but at that moment the column of light erupted. Soundlessly it shot through the room, like an explosion on a television with the sound turned off. Remus shielded his eyes and Harry buried his face in the fabric of Remus' robes, but for the fragment of a second Remus had an unobstructed view on the magical circle. It was only a heartbeat before the blinding light forced him to shield his eyes, but he was sure that in this short moment he had seen Severus being pulled behind the veil.

Remus pressed his hands against his head as the slight headache and dizziness transformed into a sharp pain that shot through his head, bouncing off the inside of his skull only to increase tenfold each time. He thought he was screaming, but he was not sure.

As the wave of light ebbed, extinguished the five candles and left the Death Chamber in total darkness, the sound began. It was a low, rumbling sound at first, but it quickly erupted into a deafening roar, just as if the sound of the earlier explosion of light had finally reached them and was washing over them with some seconds delay. The archway collapsed in itself, filling the pitch-black chamber with choking dust and the sound of tumbling debris.

Remus didn't hear it anymore. The pain in his head had completely drowned out all other noise, even his own screams, and just when he thought it became too unbearable his body failed him and he fell limply to the floor.


	34. Unveiled

**Chapter 34 – Unveiled**

Ron stood outside in the corridor that led to the Department of mysteries, covered under the invisibility cloak, shivering silently. The corridor had not been very warm to begin with, but Ron had the feeling that it was getting colder. Probably only his imagination. Ever since Snape and Remus had come running down the corridor, both looking positively murderous, Ron had been thinking about the possible consequences of their nightly excursion. Snape had said that Harry was lucky to be still alive, and at the thought alone, Ron felt shivers run down his spine. Harry had told him that what he planned was dangerous, but so far Ron had pushed that thought into the background. They had always gotten away, Harry had come out of the most dire situations before. Merlin, he had faced You-Know-Who more than once and had managed to come back alive every time.

Ron only hoped that his friend would manage to come out of this alive, as well. Somehow, he saw it as a good sign that Snape and Remus had not yet come back out of the Death Chamber. If there was some sort of emergency, if Harry needed to go to the hospital or…or worse, surely the two would have come back by now. But nothing had moved in the corridor since the door had closed behind Remus.

There were other thoughts worrying him, as well. Mostly, he was afraid to hear what his parents would have to say once all this was over. He was sure that neither his mother nor his father would be able to stay angry with Harry for long. They never were, his mother had too much of a soft spot for Harry. Ron on the other hand would very well feel the full force of Molly Weasley's wrath. Merlin, his mother was going to kill him for sure. Professor Snape would skin him for his part in the plan, and then his mother would finish him off.

With bated breath, Ron waited for something, anything, to happen that would take the nerve-wracking tension away. The more time passed, the more convinced he got that something had gone wrong. But what? Harry had sounded so sure that his plan would work out, but what if he had not considered something? What if he had overlooked something, and now things had gotten horribly wrong? Ron would not forgive himself if something unforeseen had happened, and Hermione would be his constant reminder of it. He was sure that she had been the one to tell Professor Lupin about their plan.

Maybe twenty minutes after the Professors had vanished he heard steps on the corridor again. This time it was Professor Dumbledore who came into view, with Kingsley Shacklebolt and another man Ron didn't know hurrying along next to him. The three of them didn't look excited either, but compared with the anger he had been confronted with earlier, Ron still felt relieved to see them. Dumbledore went straight towards him, even though Ron was still covered by the invisibility cloak. Ron quickly pulled it away, causing both Kingsley and the stranger to look slightly startled at his sudden appearance. Dumbledore, however, didn't seem the least fazed by Ron's shift of visibility.

"Mr. Weasley", Dumbledore said as he reached him. "Where did they go to?"

Ron pointed down the corridor. "Down there. The Death Chamber, around fifteen minutes ago."

Dumbledore nodded and the three men immediately started running down the corridor again. Nobody told him what to do, but this time Ron was fed up with standing around and waiting, so he followed them. Nobody protested, but then again Ron guessed that nobody was really noticing him. They went into the circular chamber, but before Ron could even point out the small X that marked the correct door, Dumbledore had pulled his wand out and had circled it around his head, muttering a string of words which Ron didn't understand. The chamber started to rotate around them, and Ron was quite surprised to find that the door straight in front of them was the right one, the one he had marked as the entrance to the Death Chamber.

Kingsley and the stranger pulled out their wands, then Kingsley opened the door and they went into the Death Chamber. Ron felt as if he had never been here before. The whole experience form the day Sirius had died lay only a couple of months back, but it seemed too surreal to Ron, like a bad and bizarre dream, not like something that had really happened to him. They entered the chamber, and Ron saw how Kingsley and the stranger suddenly ran down the stairs at a dead speed. Even Dumbledore was hurrying faster than Ron would have thought possible for a man of his age. He only saw the reason for their sudden hurry when he stepped further into the chamber. Professor Lupin and Harry were lying in front of the first row of stone benches, unmoving. Harry was lying on is side, curled up in a foetal position while Remus was lying face down, as if he had collapsed from a kneeling position. There was no trace of Professor Snape in the room, yet Ron was sure that he had gone in and not come out since. But what was most worrisome was that the stone archway which had previously dominated the chamber, the archway through which Sirius had fallen, was gone. There was a chalk circle and what could once have been a pentagram on the floor, and in the light of the torches which Dumbledore had conjured up around the chamber, Ron saw extinguished candles standing along the line. But inside the circle where the archway should have been there was only a pile of stones and debris. Abut ten feet away from the circle the old tattered veil was lying on top of another pile of debris. Ron ran after the three adults. The stranger was the first to reach Remus and Harry. He fell to his knees beside the two, gently turned Remus over and reached for a pulse. After a couple of seconds he did the same with Harry. Ron ran up to where Dumbledore and Kingsley were standing and felt his heart give some funny jolts in his chest which he knew were not caused by the running. Finally the stranger sank back on his heels and looked up at Dumbledore.

"They're alive."

Dumbledore sighed in relief.

"Good. Kingsley, could you take care that they are brought to St. Mungo's, and quickly? Mr. Lupin, I want you to come with me."

Ron's head snapped up and he stared at the stranger. Mr. Lupin? Harry had told him that he had met Remus' brother at Grimmauld Place, but Ron had never seen the man before, nor had he known about his existence before Harry had told him about it. So this was Remus' brother. Well, once Ron knew where he had to put the man, a certain family resemblance between the two could not be denied, though it was anything but obvious.

Before Ron had even finished his musings, Lupin got up and followed Dumbledore over towards the chalk circle. Ron didn't know what he was supposed to do, he was worried about Harry but he was also curious as to what Professor Dumbledore wanted and where Snape was. But it seemed as if the adults had forgotten about his presence in the room altogether, if they had noticed it in the first place, so he silently followed the two men. Lupin followed Dumbledore over to the veil on the floor and turned to the side with a raised eyebrow.

"What now?"

"Severus. I'm worried about him."

Lupin didn't look particularly worried about Snape to Ron, but then again he had to say that he wasn't, either. Lupin looked at Dumbledore for another moment, then down at the veil in front of him. Ron had to admit that if that was a pile of debris lying under the veil, it was the most strangely shaped pile of debris he had ever seen. For a moment, nobody did anything, the three of them only stared down at the veil, all of them thinking along the same lines while nobody dared to voice their thoughts aloud. All three of them wanted to unveil what was lying on the ground underneath the fabric, but it was as if none of them dared to make the first move. Suddenly, Lupin bent down and pulled the old and torn fabric away.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Ron's hand flew up to his mouth and he suppressed a scream. Lupin visibly paled, only Dumbledore showed no sign of shock on the outside. On the floor at their feet, Snape was lying, unconscious or worse. In front of him, as if Snape had dragged him from behind, lay Sirius. Ron simply could not understand how that had happened, but Sirius was lying here, in front of him. Right where he had vanished nine weeks ago. Everybody had said Sirius was dead, but seemingly Harry had been right. At least Sirius didn't look like somebody who had been dead for over two months. On the other hand, he didn't particularly look very alive, either. From where he was standing, Ron could not discern whether either Snape or Sirius were still breathing.

This time it was Dumbledore who knelt down next to the two men, and Ron was sure that when he stretched out his hand to feel Snape's pulse, his fingers were shaking slightly. But nobody said anything until Dumbledore had felt for Sirius' pulse as well.

"What in the name of all that's good…"

Kingsley had stepped up from behind and was now staring down at the two prone men on the floor, his eyes huge and his mouth slightly opened, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Is that Sirius? But how?"

Dumbledore turned around slightly, still kneeling on the floor.  
"The healers are on their way?"

"Yes, they should be here in a couple of minutes."

Dumbledore nodded and got up to his feet again.

"Good. Severus needs immediate medical attendance, and I'd daresay Sirius as well."

Kingsley stared at the two men on the ground in what could only be described as utter shock and disbelief.

"Then…they're alive? Sirius is alive?"

Dumbledore nodded again as he shed his outer robe and gently spread it over Snape. Much to everybody's surprise, he pulled out his wand and waved it at the scene of destruction behind them. The debris that had once been the archway remained, but Dumbledore vanished the chalk-circles, the pentagram and the candles. Ron thought that it gave the chamber the impression that the archway had simply combusted for unknown reasons. At least all the traces of what Harry had done here were vanished now, leaving only the collapsed stone of the archway.

Dumbledore pocketed his wand again, then he turned towards Kingsley.

"Yes, they are alive."

"How?", Kingsley repeated himself.

"It's a long story, Kingsley. Sirius was never really dead, but we thought that there was no way to bring him back. Obviously, we were wrong."

He quickly got up from the floor and clapped his hands. "All right, the healers should be here soon, and I'd daresay that my arrival at the Ministry and my hurrying to the Department of Mysteries has also not gone unnoticed. I'd rather bring Severus back to Hogwarts before anybody sees him here. That would only lead to uncomfortable questions. Kingsley, Mr. Lupin, could you take care that the others are brought to St. Mungo's safely, and that the Ministry stays clear off Sirius for a while? I'll have a word with the Minister first thing tomorrow, but I need to take care of Severus first."

Kingsley and Lupin nodded, and Dumbledore quickly pulled a folded handkerchief out of his pocket, closed Snape's hand around it while he held on to a corner. He pointed his wand at it, and with a last nod at Kingsley and Lupin transformed the handkerchief into a portkey and the two men vanished.

Lupin stepped over to his brother and Harry again, while Kingsley knelt down next to Sirius and, still shaking his head, stretched out his hand and reached for a pulse. It seemed as if he still couldn't believe that it was truly Sirius lying there. Ron couldn't quite believe it himself.

Now with Dumbledore and Snape vanished, the healers on their way and everybody else being busy, Ron suddenly felt rather superfluous. There was nothing he had to do, nothing he could do for either Harry or one of the others, all he could do was remain silent and wait for the healers to arrive. Slowly, Ron went over to one of the stone benches. Harry's backpack was standing in front of it, the book, a knife and the parchments he had used lying strewn around it as if somebody had thrown the things there haphazardly. The book was the only thing that seemed to have been put down carefully. Ron sighed, bent down and started to collect the parchments, then he packed everything up into the backpack, put the invisibility cloak on top, and shouldered it.

Maybe five minutes later, the healers arrived. All that Ron remembered afterwards were a loud stream of exclamations and questions, people fussing all around the Death Chamber, stretchers being levitated and generally a large number of people crating chaos. A man in Ministry robes asked him a stream of questions, all too fast for Ron to keep up with, and he was endlessly thankful when Kingsley took his arm and pulled him away. Kingsley told the other man – probably another Auror – that he would talk to Ron later, then he guided him over to another corner in the Chamber where not so many people were crowding.

"Are you all right?", Kingsley asked Ron. Ron only nodded numbly. "Yes, I am. What about Harry and Professor Lupin? And Sirius?"

Kingsley shrugged. "They'll be brought to St. Mungo's now. Remus' brother is going with them. The two of us will go upstairs now and floo to Grimmauld Place from your father's office, then I'll go to St. Mungo's and see what's going on there."

Again, Ron nodded numbly, though the thought of facing his parents anytime soon did nothing to calm him any. But he had no chance to evade the confrontation, it might be better to get it over and done with while he was still slightly dazed by this day's experiences.

Kingsley took another tour around the Death Chamber to make sure that everything Dumbledore had ordered was taken care of. Ron saw him talking to Remus' brother for a few minutes. The conversation was too low for him to hear, but Janus Lupin nodded a few times, said something to Kingsley and then turned back towards Sirius, speaking rapidly with the two Aurors and three healers who were crowding around Harry's godfather. The Aurors seemingly didn't like what Janus had to say, but they didn't quite dare to disagree with Janus. Ron wondered slightly just how high up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Remus' brother truly was. He'd have to ask his father if he knew anything. Later, when his father was done shouting and grounding him, of course.

Numbly, he followed Kingsley up the stone steps, through the circular chamber out in the corridor and towards the elevator. He was glad and not just a little relieved when the elevator doors closed and they were rising up again, away from the Department of Mysteries.

"Just how in Merlin's name did you and Potter manage to get down there in the first place?"

"Harry's invisibility cloak", Ron said. "We took a portkey to my father's office, then we snuck down into the Department of Mysteries."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "The cloak you had earlier? Quite a trick you pulled. Maybe the Ministry should think about enhancing its security measures."

"Well, the Department of Mysteries certainly should. I get the impression that everybody can walk in there whenever they please."

Kingsley made a sound in the back of his throat. "That was the reason why the Order was guarding it last year, to make sure nobody could get to the prophecy. It's the Unspeakables' responsibility to make sure the Department is guarded, and after those two incidents during the past months, I'm sure they'll be hearing about it."

Ron didn't particularly care about what was going to happen to the Department of Mysteries in the future. He hoped never to see the creepy place again in his life, no matter for what reason.

They left the elevator and walked through the Auror Headquarters towards the office of Ron's father.

"You snuck through here? Without anybody noticing?"

Ron shrugged. "It took a while, but yeah. Everyone was busy, we only needed to make sure that nobody ran into us."

Kingsley shook his head and guided Ron through the corridor between the single cubicles. Ron didn't' have a visitor's badge, but seemingly, Kingsley's presence made nobody question why an underage wizard was at the Ministry of Magic that late in the evening. Maybe they should really reconsider their security-measures. Without speaking another word, they reached the office Mr. Weasley shared with his colleague Perkins. Kingsley knocked, and as there was no answer from within, he opened the door and let himself and Ron in.

"All right, it should be safe to floo to Grimmauld Place from here. The password for the kitchen fireplace is _Canterbury_."

He handed Ron a pot with floo-powder which he took from the mantle and with a wave of his wand lightened a fire in the cold and empty fireplace.

"You go first, I'll come after you."

Ron nodded and threw the powder into the flames, then he stepped into the flames. He called out the destination and the password, and only a few moments later he stumbled out of the fireplace in the basement kitchen at No. 12, Grimmauld Place. He straightened up, stepped aside and brushed the soot from his clothes.

"RONALD WEASLEY!"

Ron winced and turned towards the sound of the voice. His mother was standing only a few feet away from him, hands on her hips, eyes glaring furiously up at him from underneath her fiery red hair. Ron swallowed and tried to work his face into an innocent expression.

"Hello Mum."

"Hello Mum? HELLO MUM? Care to tell me where you have been? Or where Hermione is? You tell us that you're doing your homework, and suddenly the two of you are gone? We turned the whole house upside down, your father got bitten by a pixie because we even searched the attic! But you were gone! Can you imagine that we were worried sick that something had happened? Where have you been?"

Ron sighed and uncomfortably stepped from one foot to the other. At that moment, the fireplace activated again and Kingsley arrived in the basement kitchen. Molly looked from Ron to Kingsley and back again, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Well? I'm waiting?"

Ron looked to Kingsley in search for help, but the Auror just shrugged.

"I don't know how it all started, I can't do the explaining for you."

Ron sighed and sank down in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Maybe you should call down Dad, then I don't have to tell it over and over again."

Molly made a grunting noise in the back of her throat, but she walked over towards the door and called for her husband. Then she sat down on the chair opposite of her son and crossed her arms in front of her chest again, glaring at Ron. It took maybe three or four minutes, then the kitchen door opened and Arthur Weasley stepped through.

"Yes, Molly?" His eyes fell on Ron, and with a relieved sigh he quickly stepped closer. "Ron, there you are! We've been worried about you. Where have you been?"

He put a hand on his son's shoulder, and with an increasing bad conscience Ron noticed the bandage that was wrapped around his father's hand, probably covering the pixie-bite.

"It's a longer story, maybe you ought to sit down."

Arthur frowned in obvious confusion, but he pulled up a chair and sat down next to his wife.

"Well?", Molly asked, her voice still annoyed.

Ron sighed. "Well. Harry wrote me a letter, saying that he needed my help with something, but he didn't say what. Then he called earlier today. He…he said he needed my help to get into the Ministry of Magic."

"What?"  
Molly got up from her chair and leaned across the table towards her son, her eyebrows drawn together in a dangerous frown. Arthur was looking rather surprised, but at least not angry. Not yet.

"He said he needed to get into the Ministry without anybody noticing. He…I don't know how much Professor Dumbledore told you about what was going on with Remus, but it seemed that he was still somehow connected to Sirius. Professor Dumbledore and Remus wanted to break that connection. Harry thought he had an idea how to bring Sirius back, but for that he needed to get into the Department of Mysteries."

"And you helped him?", Arthur asked, now nearly as enraged as his wife was. "And how, if I may ask, did you manage that?"

"I…I might have taken that emergency portkey from your bedside table."

Arthur's face grew as red as his hair was, and a large vein began pulsing on his forehead. "My portkey", he brought out from between clenched teeth. Ron nodded.

"The portkey that was meant for emergencies."

Again, Ron nodded. "I thought this qualified as an emergency…"

"No, it definitely did not! **_I_** define what an emergency is, and I'm perfectly sure that _this_ was not one! So, you stole my portkey. Then what happened?"  
Ron told the story of how he and Hermione had gone to Hogwarts and then what had happened at the Ministry to Harry and him. There were quite a number of things he'd rather leave out, but he knew that sooner or later, his parents would get to know about it. So he told them all he thought they needed to know, and he tried not to get nervous from the way his father's expression darkened more and more. His mother looked rather shocked, and when he told that Snape had somehow managed to bring Sirius back, something unreadable crossed her face.

"Then Kingsley flooed here with me from your office. Hermione has to be at Hogwarts still, though I don't think that she's in the cupboard anymore."

He folded his shaking hands to hide how nervous he was and hesitantly looked up from his father to his mother. Arthur breathed in deeply a couple of times, then he looked up and met Ron's gaze.

"Go upstairs to your room. We'll talk about this later, right now I'm far too angry to deal with this any further."

Ron got up from his chair. "I know that it doesn't count for much, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you worried about me, but what I'm not sorry for is that I helped Harry. Because he was right, and it worked. It was good for Harry."

Very slowly, Arthur looked up at Ron. "We all care very much about Harry, Ron. You know that. He knows that. But if Harry really tried to do today what I think he did, then he was not _right_. He was _lucky_. There's a huge difference, and Harry has the tendency to forget that everybody's luck runs out at some point. I want neither him nor you to find that out the hard way, but obviously it is completely pointless to tell the two of you to be careful. And now go upstairs, please."

Ron wanted to respond something, but then he decided not to push his luck today, nodded and left the kitchen.


	35. Awakening

**Chapter 35 – Awakening**

Harry felt like shit. It was not the most wonderful realisation upon waking up, but it was true. He was feeling like shit. Great. With a groan, he opened his eyes and tried to find out where he was. Without his glasses, everything was rather blurry around him, but the onslaught of white that greeted him upon opening his eyes could only mean one thing – he was in a hospital. Well, feeling like shit and being in a hospital, that combined pretty well. Now he only had to find out just where the connection was which had brought him here. The last he remembered was that he and Ron had locked Hermione in one of Filch's closet. Then they had taken that portkey to the Ministry of Magic…

Harry had never woken up this rapidly before. It all came back to him in a rush, and he desperately needed to find out what had happened after his memory broke off.

"Good morning, Harry", a soft voice beside him said, effectively interrupting his thoughts. Harry turned his head to the side and saw a brownish-blurry shape sitting next to his bed. Either his eyesight was getting worse or he was still far too dizzy, but he didn't recognise who it was. And he had problems in placing the voice. But eyesight…there was something about his eyesight, something he should remember, but what was it?

"My glasses…?"

"Right, just a moment." The blurry shape next to Harry moved around a little, then it came closer and Harry felt his glasses being slid onto his nose. He blinked a few times, then his vision cleared and he recognised the blurry brown shape to be Remus. His former teacher was sitting on the chair next to Harry's bed, a strange expression on his face. Compared to the weeks before, Remus looked rather good, though he didn't look particularly well yet. Actually, he looked better than the last time Harry had seen him, but he was still too pale, too thin and looked as if he had not gotten enough rest. Great, Harry thought upon this tumble of thoughts. Too confused to remember that he was wearing glasses, and now he was mentally rambling nonsense. Just great.

"What happened? Where am I?", Harry asked and tried to push himself up into a sitting position. Remus rummaged around on the bedside table and after a moment handed Harry a glass of water.

"We're at St. Mungo's", was all he said for the moment, taking care that Harry didn't spill the water. Harry drank greedily, only now realising that he was thirsty, extremely thirsty at that.

"Thank you. What happened?", Harry repeated, but the question died in his throat as he looked at Remus. There was something in his gaze that made Harry stop short, because he had never seen it in his ever-composed teacher before. Not even on the day when Harry had been shouting and yelling at him for thinking about cutting Sirius off. Though Harry could not quite discern just what kind of emotion it was that he was seeing in his former teacher's eyes.

"Are you angry?", Harry asked. Remus sighed deeply and crossed his legs.

"To be honest, I don't quite know what I am. Angry is certainly part of it, but not the overwhelming part. How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged slightly. "Not overly well."

"Does anything hurt?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. I just don't feel overly well. Tired, exhausted."

Remus nodded. "Exhaustion is something you can expect when you go and perform magic which could as well have killed you if you had kept it up for just a little longer."

Harry normally didn't lack the ability to find answers, especially in his own defence, but right now he simply could not think of anything to say in response to Remus' words.

"What…what happened last night? I…how did you and Professor Snape get there? What about Ron? Is everybody all right? Are you all right?"

Remus smiled softly and refilled Harry's water glass. "First of all, it was not yesterday. You have been unconscious for a bit more than two days, which is why you should get some liquid into you now." He pushed the glass into Harry's direction, and the teenager picked it up. "As for the rest of your questions, it's all been very confusing. I was unconscious as well until yesterday morning myself. As for what happened that night, for the most part, I can only give you a rough summary. Severus found Hermione in the closet in which Ron and you locked her in. By the way, it was not a very nice thing to do to a friend, and she is rather furious about it. I can imagine that she was worried about you, but now that you are awake, I think she'll mostly be angry. She told Severus where you had gone. Severus and I went to the Ministry as quickly as we could, but you had already begun. So Severus had to bring you back and finish what you started."

Harry swallowed hard, his heart doing a funny leap in his chest before it started beating at twice its former pace. "Define finish, please."

Remus sighed deeply. "You opened a portal to the world of the dead, Harry. Or rather, you started meddling with a half-open portal that was already there. That was something you could not control once you had set it in motion. Severus had to finish what you had started, meaning he had to try and complete the rite and close that portal again. Such a connection cannot be allowed to be kept open. Merlin only knows what could come through that portal."

Harry's eyes widened. "Complete the rite? Sirius is back? Does that mean that Sirius is back?"

His heart was beating fast in his throat, and he was about to swing his legs over the edge of the mattress and get up, but with bated breath he was still waiting for Remus' answer. A large part of him was hoping so strongly that Sirius was back, but another part of him was so afraid to have his hopes crushed for good with Remus' next words. Remus, however, was pulling his face into a slight grimace.

"It's a difficult question to answer, Harry. Physically, Sirius is back. Severus sent a note to Albus as soon as he got to know what you were about to do. Albus was in a meeting with Moody and Janus, and they immediately left towards London. Moody did what he could to keep everybody away from the Department of Mysteries. Albus told me that when they came to the Death Chamber, they found the archway destroyed. You and I were lying near the stone benches, and underneath the veil they found Severus and Sirius. Physically, Sirius is back and alive."

A huge smile stretched at the corners of Harry's mouth, but Remus quickly shook his head.

"I said physically. I don't want to worry you any further, but so far, that is all that can be said for sure. He hasn't woken up yet, and only when he does we can see what really happened to him."

Harry made move to get up from the bed, but Remus took him by the shoulders and pressed him back. Harry shook his head.

"But I want to see him. I need to see him, Remus."

Remus shook his head. "No, Harry. Nobody is allowed to see him at the moment. They didn't let me see him, either. He's in an intensive care ward, and only his healers are allowed to go in there. He isn't awake yet, and I don't know what condition he is in. I know that it's hard, but we'll have to wait and see what happens."

Harry leaned back in the pillows, but he didn't entirely relax. Sirius was back, that was the sole thought on his mind. Sirius was back. He had brought Sirius back. Well, from what Remus had said, actually Snape had brought Sirius back, but the main thing was that Sirius was back. All else would fall into place now, right? That was what Harry had thought in the beginning. Bringing Sirius back was the main thing, everything else would fall into place then. Only, it didn't seem as if everything would fall into place at the moment.

"But Sirius will be all right, won't he? He will recover?"

Remus breathed in deeply. "The healers aren't exactly talkative about Sirius. The Ministry is keeping the lid very tightly on his medical reports. His condition wasn't stable when he was brought here, that is all I know, and that only because Albus told me what happened when he arrived in the Death Chamber. Sirius was gone for over two months, that seemingly left his marks on his body as well. Give it a few days. He needs to wake up, then we will know more. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything else at the moment."

Harry nodded defeatedly. He still wanted nothing more than to go and see Sirius, convince himself that his godfather was really there, sit by his bedside until he woke up, but without knowing where Sirius really was, he'd have to search the whole hospital for him. And if the Ministry was involved as well, there might be no getting through to Sirius, anyway. But that was something that worried Harry, now that he thought about it. So far, the Ministry had never been very keen on treating Sirius well, and now that he was finally back, he was in the Ministry's hands? The very thing they had been trying to prevent for the past years?

"Why is Sirius here? Why not bring him somewhere safe?"  
"Away from the Ministry, you mean?"

Harry nodded.

"For one, because he needed medical care after he was brought back from behind the veil. Albus brought Severus back to Hogwarts so that nobody would get to know what he had done in the Death Chamber, but bringing Sirius to Hogwarts wouldn't have been an alternative."

"Why not?"

"Madam Pomfrey is a very competent healer, do not doubt that. But what happened to Sirius is far beyond the realm of what she is used to dealing with. Sirius was obviously in need of constant medical care, twenty-four hours a day, and at a very high level. Something which St. Mungo's can provide a lot better than the Hogwarts infirmary. And I think it also has another reason why Albus didn't bring Sirius back to Hogwarts immediately."

Harry only hoped that it was a good reason. Whenever Sirius was concerned, Harry had learned the hard way that his own views differed strongly from Dumbledore's. He had not seen the old wizard lose any sleep over Sirius' untimely death, and he didn't quite know what the old wizard would think about Sirius' unexpected return.

"Which reason?"

"That the Ministry knew Sirius had fallen through the veil."

"Why did they know? When Ron and I came through the Auror Department, we saw that all of his pictures had managed from Kingsley's cubicle. At that time, I thought it only logical with Sirius being…well, with him being gone, but I didn't think about why the Ministry should even know."

Remus nodded. "Basically, they knew because he was seen when we came to the Department of Mysteries after you. Albus sent you back to Hogwarts, and afterwards he and the Minister conferred about what had happened. To my knowledge, Albus simply wanted to finally convince Minister Fudge that Voldemort had returned, that he could no longer deny that fact. Meanwhile, Aurors were investigating the scene, righting the damage, interviewing Ministry workers who had been on duty. Unfortunately, more than one person claimed to have seen Sirius in the building earlier that night. We were far too hurried to get into the Department of Mysteries to make absolutely sure that we were not seen. Now when Fudge heard that Sirius was seen in the Ministry that night, he immediately thought that he had come as part of Voldemort's Death Eaters. Albus told him what really happened, as he had told him many times before that Sirius was no Death Eater. Before, Fudge never listened to him. That night, for some reason, he chose to believe Albus. Probably in the light of Albus being right about Voldemort's return, probably because it could no longer hurt Fudge to admit that Albus was also right about Sirius. With him fallen through the veil, there was no need to admit that his imprisonment had been unjustified in the first place."

"There was no need to clear his name, Sirius was gone, and Fudge could give Kingsley and the other Aurors who were after Sirius something else to do", Harry added angrily. Remus nodded.

"Unfortunately, I think that is the explanation for the Minister's behaviour. He could call off the search for Sirius officially and use the manpower somewhere else. There was one short article in the _Daily Prophet_ a few days after Sirius fell through the veil, I guess you haven't seen it."

Harry shook his head, and Remus continued.

"Basically, it only said that the public didn't need to worry about Sirius anymore, that he no longer posed a threat to the wizarding world. It didn't mention what happened to him – after all, the Minister didn't want anybody to know that there had been Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries, or anything else of the details that happened that night. It didn't even mention that Sirius was dead, only that he no longer posed a threat, that he had been _rendered harmless_. There wasn't any following up on it, because the papers were busy enough printing the news about Voldemort's return. The search for Sirius of course was called off, Kingsley was put to other tasks. The problem is that now that Sirius is back, the only way to get his name cleared is through the Ministry."

"But how do they explain that Sirius is back? You said that Professor Snape will get into real trouble if anybody finds out what he did. So how does the Ministry explain that Sirius is back?"

Remus shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know. I haven't had much time to speak to Albus since I woke up, but I just hope there'll be a way. For now, it's good that the Minister can no longer brush all the doubts about Sirius' guilt off. There simply has to be a way of getting his name cleared as soon as he wakes up."

There was a slight note of doubt in Remus' voice. Maybe it wasn't doubt at all, Harry wasn't entirely sure, but it was some heavy feeling that belied the optimistic content of what he had just said. It sounded as if Remus didn't truly believe what he had just told Harry. But which part of it? The part about clearing Sirius' name? Or the part about Sirius waking up again? Maybe he was getting paranoid, but past experience had taught Harry that people around him had a tendency not to share everything they knew with him. At least not if there was no other choice.

"What is there that you don't tell me?"

Remus looked up at Harry. "Pardon?"

"I get the feeling that you're not telling me something."

Remus slowly shook his head. "I'm not keeping anything from you, Harry. It's just…", he smiled sadly and shook his head. "I have learned that often in life, things do not work out the way you want them to. Far too often, unfortunately. You have achieved a very good thing in bringing Sirius back, and that should be reason enough to be happy about it. Only, I get the feeling that this isn't over yet."

"What do you mean?"

"There is yet no telling what state Sirius will be in once he wakes up. There is no telling that the Minister will stick to what he said two months ago and believe that there was something fishy about Sirius' arrest. There is no guarantee that everything will work out. And for once in my life, I would very much like to have a guarantee. That would help to calm me immensely."

Harry could sympathise with that. Merlin, what he'd give to finally have a guarantee for his life to work out.

"But if nobody is allowed to know what Professor Snape did with the archway, how on earth is the Ministry supposed to explain that Sirius is back?"

Remus shrugged and spread his hands in front of his chest.

"If only I knew. Minister Fudge certainly will want to have an explanation for what happened, for what destroyed the archway and brought Sirius back. I don't know what an explanation which would not endanger you or Severus might look like, though. I only know that the Ministry will certainly not shed a tear over the destruction of the archway, though that doesn't mean they won't want an explanation for it. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Will they question me? After all, I had no business being in the Department that night. Neither had you."

"It might be, Harry. As I said, I simply don't know. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, for now I don't think anything will happen today or tomorrow. I'll talk to Albus as soon as I can, maybe he knows more. He's the only one who at least has some contact with the Minister himself. As soon as I know anything, I'll tell you."

Harry nodded and leaned back in his bed. He didn't like having to wait for everything to resolve – or not to, come to think of that – but again he didn't have much choice in the matter. After a few long moments of silence, Harry noted that Remus was watching him intensely. He turned to look at his former teacher.

"Remus?"

Remus sighed and uncrossed his legs, only to re-cross them again a few seconds later.

"I'm very glad that Sirius is back. More than I can tell. Especially since it was something I had not even dared to hope for anymore."

Harry sensed that there was more to come. "But?"

"I know that I am not your guardian, or someone whose advice you have to heed, but did you just for one moment consider how incredibly stupid what you did was? How dangerous? I know that Severus told you not to research Necromancy because it was dangerous. _I_ told you not to research Necromancy because it was dangerous. You _promised_ me, Harry. And yet you use the first possibility to run away from Hogwarts, involve Ron into taking a portkey from his father to bring you to the Ministry to perform Necromancy. You lock Hermione into a broom closet, sneak around the Ministry in your invisibility cloak and break into the Department of Mysteries. You steal a book from Severus' private possessions, risk your life as well as Severus' and mine. You achieved a very good thing with what you did, but I can't even begin to tell you how reckless and foolish it was. How risky."

Remus' voice not gotten any louder as he spoke, but definitely sharper. His tone wasn't angry, but definitely serious, with very much authority in his voice. Harry didn't quite know how to respond. He had done all the things Remus had mentioned, yet he hadn't quite thought about it like that. He hadn't meant to risk anybody's life, he had wanted to _save_ a life. Sirius' life. That had been important to him, more important than anything he had ever done in his life. And it had worked.

"I…I didn't want to risk anybody's life. It was only…I mean, you wanted to cut him off. I just couldn't let you cut him off, not if there was a chance to bring him back."

"Harry, we talked about this at length, didn't we? We talked about the reasons for the decision I made."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, we did. But that morning when you were feeling so bad that you were brought into the infirmary…I don't know. It all became so real suddenly. You wanted to cut him off the next day, and I simply couldn't let you do that. I couldn't let you cut him off."

Harry didn't know why there were tears shooting into his eyes, but he blinked them away and tried to get his bearings again. Remus looked at Harry, his hands folded in his lap, the expression on his face unreadable for the teenager.

"I'm not in any position to give you a lecture now, especially not after how glad I am that you miraculously managed to bring Sirius back. And though it might have sounded like it just now, I'm also not going to make accusations. But especially since I can imagine that you are more than happy that you managed to bring Sirius back. I just want you to keep in mind what you risked, because you risked a lot. And you cannot expect things to work out every time that you risk so much. So far, it always worked. But I wouldn't always rely on that."

"I had to do something", Harry said. "Nobody else was doing anything to bring Sirius back, everybody had already given him up, I just could not stand by and watch you cut him off. Nobody believed me, that was the sole reason why I had to take all those risks. You didn't believe that there was a way to bring Sirius back, but did you even spend some thought on the matter? Did you even for once contemplated my idea before you shrugged it off?"

Remus drew a deep breath, then he nodded. "Believe it or not, I did spend more than just one thought on what you proposed. And I came to the conclusion that as much bringing Sirius back was an aim worth achieving, it did not justify resorting to Necromancy. You should have known that."

Harry sat up straighter, his voice rising indignantly. "What should I have known? All I know is that everybody kept telling me that Necromancy is bad, keep your hands off it, and that I should know why. Sorry, but I don't know why. Maybe I should, but I just don't."

A moment of silence stretched over the room, longer than it would have been comfortable. Finally, Remus shook his head.

"You have spent more time researching Necromancy than you have probably spent on most of your summer assignments, and yet you have no idea what Necromancy really is? You must have stumbled upon its history, upon its dangers, and yet you paid no notice to them?"

"I didn't exactly have much time for those researches, and I wasn't _researching_ Necromancy, I was _searching_ for a way to bring Sirius back."

"And thusly didn't pay attention to anything else." Remus nodded. Earlier, when Harry had woken up, Harry had thought that Remus looked angry. Strangely, now he looked slightly amused. "Also, you find it hard to believe that sometimes fully educated wizards simply know better."

"I might not if they'd offer me an explanation for a change. I don't particularly like it when people tell me that they know better and just expect me to accept that."

"Point taken." Remus got up from his chair and walked over towards the window. He looked out for a moment, then went back so that he came to a stop at the foot end of the bed. "I thought I explained to you, but maybe you're right and I simply was not specific enough."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe I should have seen it, but no matter what, I simply didn't. I understand that Necromancy is not everyday-magic, and that it's illegal. Illegal of course means 'keep your hands off', but if it's about bringing Sirius back, then sorry, I don't care about legal or not."

Remus nodded. "Even though the proverbial milk is long spilled, I should maybe remedy that I failed to explain the crucial point about why not to use Necromancy to you."

Harry nodded and settled back against the headboard. "All right."

Remus went up and down for a moment, as if searching for the right words, and then he started to speak in a tone of voice which Harry remembered only too well from the time Remus had still been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"There is a very definite border between life and death. Once it is crossed, there is no turning back, and everybody has to cross it once. Some people, like Sir Nick, leave an imprint of themselves on this side of the border, but that doesn't change anything about the basic principle. Sir Nick is still dead, the only difference is that he chose not to move on to whatever lies beyond the border. Everybody has to die once, and once somebody is dead, there is no bringing them back."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Remus looked at him and shook his head, as if he didn't want to be interrupted in his explanation.

"From an emotional perspective, people often die too soon, when it is not their time, when they are still needed in this world. Not that this would influence why some people die early, and some late in their lives. Nobody really knows what comes after death, the threshold between life and death is not something that can be crossed to and fro. Death is a definite ending, and once somebody is dead there is no way for a living person to bring them back."

"From the way you're saying it, there is no Necromancy at all."

Remus sighed and went over to the window, sightlessly staring out into the sky. "There is. Unfortunately there is. Necromancy is the exception to the rule, and Necromancers are the few people who have the inborn ability to cross the line between life and death. But that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is that not even a Necromancer can cross the line between life and death without taking risks. Nobody can just come a-knocking on death's door to claim somebody back. A Necromancer has to open a passage between the worlds, a space to pass through. And that means connecting two places which are meant to be strictly separated from each other, because they do not combine well. You cannot combine life and death in one realm, that just doesn't work. Death is the end of life. The archway is a portal between those worlds, a portal that is easier to open than creating one from scratch. Easier because it is already half-way open – Sirius could fall through it, but he could not come back out again. Half-way open, into one direction. Which is why you were able to set all this in motion without any talent at Necromancy at all. You wouldn't have been able to achieve anything if you didn't have the archway as a support. Such portals are dangerous because there is no telling what can come through it while it's open. There is no telling what will happen once something comes through such a portal. Take a look at Dementors. They come from the realm behind the veil, and look what they are able to do to people. It's dangerous to tamper around with that. And it's even more dangerous to pass through such a portal while it's open. Harry, you were attempting to cross the border between life and death. As a living human being, that is impossible. Had Severus not come and taken over, you'd have killed yourself."

He drew a deep breath, ran his hands through his hair and sunk down into his chair again, as if speaking had greatly exhausted him. He crossed his legs, ran his hands across his face and looked into Harry's eyes again.

"You were about to throw yourself head over heels into something that was too big for you to handle. Even for a Necromancer it's dangerous to cross that line towards the world of the dead. Living souls are not welcome there, they have no place amongst the dead. Which is why you – if you had managed to take this any further that night, or if Severus hadn't taken over the connection you created and thusly allowed you to come back – would not have come out of this alive. Only a Necromancer has the talent to go into the Netherworld and come back, and even for them it is not an easy procedure. What you did was too much already. You ventured farther than anybody with your lack of talent should have ventured and come back."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not an expert, but I'd dare to say that without Severus' help, you wouldn't have been able to come back. Death isn't particularly picky, those who willingly cross its threshold cannot expect to come out of this alive again. You were about to cross a border which you should not have crossed. Merlin only knows what kind of consequences will come out of this."

"What do you mean?"

Remus exhaled deeply and began pacing at the foot end of Harry's bed again. "Maybe nothing. But it is possible that what you did will have consequences we're not yet aware of. It might not be over yet, I'll have to talk to Severus once he's up and about again, maybe he knows more. In any case, you should pay very close attention to anything out of the ordinary you might notice about yourself. We can't fully rely on the healers to find out. The healers here do not know what you did, obviously. Otherwise you'd be in a hell lot of problems, because undoubtedly the Ministry would get to know about it. They only know that you were a bystander in a magical accident, one that drained you remarkably. Which is basically what you're in need for treatment for – complete physical exhaustion. Thanks Merlin that nothing more happened to you. This could have ended differently. You could have died, Harry."

"But I didn't die."

"No, but that was nothing you had any influence on. You were well on the road to killing yourself, I want you to keep that in mind."

Harry drank his glass of water and put it on the bedside table. He didn't quite know how to respond to Remus' words.

Remus got up from his chair.

"I'll tell the healers that you are awake again, then I'm going to organise you a bite to eat. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Thank you."

Remus vanished out of the room, and a few minutes later, a healer came into the room, wand at the ready. Harry sighed and leaned back against his pillows. One thing he had learned about healers during the past years – thanks to Madam Pomfrey: the more he cooperated, the sooner he'd get this over and done with.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Severus Snape had the probably most blazing headache of his entire life. That was the first thing he became aware of, at a time when he didn't even know where he was and what had happened. His memory was hazy, so he'd have to find out step by step. He obviously wasn't dead, because although concepts like heaven and eternal peace were something he had never believed in, he also didn't believe that death would be just _that_ painful. Everything seemed to be aching, not only his head, but strangely he didn't feel as if he was seriously wounded. He knew what _that_ felt like from prior experience, and it had felt differently. Not much less horrible, but different.

Where was he? He felt numb all over and couldn't feel all that much, but he was nearly sure that he was lying on a bed. At least he was feeling warm and comfortable, that alone counted for something. He couldn't hear anything except from the sound of somebody breathing beside him, and couldn't quite explain where the warm feeling on his forehead stemmed from.

He would have to open his eyes to find out more.

Slowly, he lifted one eyelid and then the other, grateful that it seemed to be late evening and the room he found himself in was dark. He didn't know if he could have dealt with bright light just now. His room, that was the first thing he became aware of. He was in his bedroom at Hogwarts, his private quarters to which nobody except from him had access. Nobody except from…

"Albus", he croaked out, knowing that the other person in the room could only be the headmaster.

"Severus, it's good to see you awake again."

Dumbledore removed his palm from Severus' forehead and lightened up a dimmed lamp on the bedside table. His face, when it came into Severus' view, was drawn and worried.

"How are you feeling?"

Severus tried to shrug, but under the thick blankets he could not be sure that he had managed. Judged from the pain in his shoulders, he had actually moved a bit.

"All right."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Severus, there is nobody here except from you and me. I know you don't like others to witness your moments of weakness, but right now you unfortunately are in a situation where you'll have to let me help you."

Severus remained silent, but as he saw the sly smile spread on the headmaster's face he knew that something was about to come.

"I could of course call Poppy down do examine you thoroughly."

"Call that bat and I'll not hesitate to curse first her and then you."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I doubt you would have enough strength to hold your wand at the moment. But if you don't want Poppy to look after you, then let's try this again. How are you feeling?"

"Horrible", Severus admitted truthfully. "Everything aches, my head most of all. I'm thirsty, and I don't feel as if I can move at all."

"Yes, you've exhausted yourself extremely with what you did. I can give you something against the pain. I imagine that the feeling of weakness will last for another couple of days, though. No surprise after what you did in the Death Chamber."

Severus closed his eyes and tried to remember. He didn't need to stress his brain very hard, the memories were there immediately, just as if they had been waiting for him to start thinking about it. He opened his eyes again as he felt gentle hands on his back and shoulder which were rising him up into a sitting position. Severus tried to sit up on his own, he didn't like the feeling of being completely helpless and depending on somebody else's help, but he had to realize that he was too weak. With surprising strength Dumbledore lifted Severus up into a sitting position and leaned him against his side. A goblet was pressed to his lips, and Severus trustfully opened his mouth and drank. Another clear sign of his physical weakness, that none of his natural sense of self-preservation kicked in at the moment, on the contrary, that he trustfully drank an unknown potion that was given to him. Even if it was Albus, normally he'd at least have asked what kind of potion that was.

"That potion should take care of you headache. Do you want something to drink?"  
Severus nodded and patiently allowed the headmaster to rise another glass to his lips which he emptied greedily. As much as he wanted, he could not suppress a content sigh as Dumbledore helped him lie down again and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. Fortunately, nobody else was there to witness this moment except from Albus. If somebody other than the headmaster would be here to see this, Severus would have to consider either murder or suicide as possibilities, depending on who the other witnesses were. The headmaster had been more than right in stating that he didn't like others to observe his moments of weakness. That had its reasons, experiences he'd rather have forgotten. But Albus had seen him in far worse conditions before, moments when he had needed the help of somebody else, and though Severus had minded each and every time that it had happened, those moments of weakness were not quite as bad if Albus witnessed them than if somebody else did.

"What happened, Albus?"

He noticed that his voice was not as raspy anymore now that he had drunk something. Small steps, but that was all the progress he could make at the moment.

"It's a long story, Severus. Maybe we should wait with going through it until you are better again."

Severus shook his head.

"What about Black? And Potter and Lupin?"

Dumbledore sighed.  
"Harry and Remus are fine. They were both exhausted and needed medical attention, but I received word from St. Mungo's this morning that they are doing well. They're both up and about again."

"Black?"

"It was a dangerous thing to attempt, Severus. You are not sufficiently trained in what you did, you nearly killed yourself."

"I had no choice, Albus. It would have killed Potter otherwise. And once I was holding the connection alone, it wasn't possible to withdraw just like that. Did it work?"

A long pause followed, but Severus could not see Dumbledore's nod because he had his eyes closed again.

"Yes, it worked. The archway was destroyed, and under the veil we found Sirius and you. He hasn't woken up yet, and I haven't been to see him, but from what I told his condition is improving. He is in no life-threatening condition anymore. The rest remains to be seen."

Severus breathed in deeply a couple of times, already feeling consciousness fleeing. Trust Albus to give him a painkilling potion that would make him drowsy.

"Thank you."

Dumbledore placed his palm on Severus' forehead again.

"There is nothing you need to thank me for."

With a tremendous effort, Severus brought his own hand up to cover the headmaster's.  
"I'm very well aware of what you did, Albus. Obviously, you didn't want me brought to St. Mungo's because an official investigation would have been the consequence. And as I'm not tied to a bed upstairs in the infirmary, I guess that Madam Pomfrey doesn't know anything about my condition, either. So that leaves only you. And judged from how exhausted you look, I know exactly what you did. Thank you."

Dumbledore nodded and squeezed Severus' hand.

"You're welcome, Severus. Just get some more rest, you need it."

Severus doubted that he could get sleep, much less restful sleep, at the moment, but he guessed that the potion Albus had given him would take care of that. So he merely nodded and closed his eyes, allowing the potion to take effect. He'd deal with the images of what had happened the night before at some later point. Not now. When he was ready for it. Maybe in a year or two. And before another thought had the chance to enter his mind, he fell asleep.


	36. Clarification

**Chapter 36 – Clarification**

Harry bravely stood the healer's examination, though he couldn't quite discern what all the wand-waving was about. At first he asked what the healer was doing, but gave that up quickly as the man's explanations only served to confuse him more. So he silently succumbed to the examination, and the only question he asked was the question of when he was going to be released. The healer mumbled something about a severe physical and magical exhaustion, and about wanting to watch Harry's condition for another day or two to see if there was a setback. Harry nodded finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man left.

That was when Harry realised that he had absolutely nothing to do here. All his things were at Hogwarts, there was no newspaper or book with which he could distract himself from brooding. And for as long as he had not seen Sirius, he didn't want to brood about what had happened. His thoughts drifted off to Ron and Hermione. Remus had said that Hermione was angry, and Harry could only too well imagine that she was. He would be, if his friends had locked him up in a broom closet. Merlin, he would be angry if that had happened to him. That was what Remus had meant, he supposed. He had been so intent at bringing Sirius back that he had not spent any thought on what he had to do to reach that aim. He had locked one of his best friend in a broom closet, just because she had tried to keep him from risking his life. But she simply had not understood, unlike Ron she had not understood how much Harry had needed to do this. She hadn't understood how much Harry needed his godfather back. But knowing Hermione, she would be very angry about it. Furious. Ron was right, she'd probably never talk to him again.

And Ron had surely gotten into serious trouble with his parents. They had either noticed that Ron and Hermione had vanished, or they had noticed that the portkey of Ron's father had vanished. One way or another, they would get to know what had happened. It wasn't as if it would be easy to hide Sirius' return from the Order members, especially since Ron had been in the Ministry of Magic at the time it had happened. Mrs. Weasley would have Ron's head for that. This was probably worse than anything the twins had ever done, and those two had done a lot of things that had enraged their mother. Harry shuddered at the thought. Hermione was angry and Ron was in serious trouble, and it was all his fault.

But they had brought Sirius back, wasn't that the main thing? Hermione would not be furious forever. Harry would tell her that it had been wrong to lock her up, and that she had been right about his plan being illegal and dangerous, but the main thing was that it had worked, hadn't it? Surely even Hermione and Mrs. Weasley had to see that. Bringing Sirius back had been a goal worth striving for, Harry didn't doubt that. But how much would he have been willing to justify in order to achieve it? He had seriously scratched a very good friendship, and he had gotten his best friend into really big trouble. Not exactly something to be proud of, even if it had served its cause. Even if it had achieved something really, really good.

Harry sighed. He desperately needed something to distract himself from those thoughts, otherwise he'd drive himself mad. He could of course sneak out and try to search Sirius, but somehow he had the feeling that he would not get very far. He was wearing a pair of pyjamas and didn't know where his godfather was. He'd only attract attention if he walked around St. Mungo's like that in search of Sirius. He'd either be brought back here immediately, or he'd get his own nicely padded room upstairs, directly next to Lockhart's. And wouldn't that be just the icing on top of it all? Managing to bring Sirius back, only to be locked up as a nutcase. No, he'd have to distract himself differently.

With a sigh, Harry crossed his arms behind his back and stared up at the ceiling. It's general colour was white, but there were myriads of small and not quite so small spots on the ceiling. Before Harry knew what was happening, he had started counting. He didn't notice that the door to his room was opened a few minutes later, only when somebody sat down next to his bed did he stop counting and turn his head. Remus was sitting next to him, a curious smile on his face and a covered tray in his hands which he deposited on Harry's bedside table.

"Anything interesting up there?", he asked.

Harry shrugged. "So far, I've counted a hundred and twenty four black spots, nineteen greenish ones which might come from those disgusting potions they hand out here, and a large red one which I think might be blood."

He pointed with his index finger and Remus looked up at the ceiling.

"Well, considering St. Mungo's menu, I doubt that it's ketchup", Remus said after a moment, then looked down and uncovered the tray, depositing it in Harry's lap. "I've met the house elf who distributes the food here in front of your door. It will forever remain a universal mystery why hospital food tastes horribly, even if it's house-elfs preparing it, but there you go. Tuck in."

Harry looked down at his tray and found indeed nothing that would demand ketchup being poured over it. There were mashed potatoes with a little bit of gravy, and some indiscernible vegetables that could once have been green beans. If they were, Harry didn't want to know what had been done to them to make them look like they did now, but it must have been something horrible. He picked up his fork and tried a little of the potatoes and the might-be-beans. It tasted a little bit like cardboard, and the mashed potatoes were cold. They might have been better edible with the gravy, but there wasn't enough of it for the entire mound of potatoes. But still, it was food. Harry took a few bites, and decided that if he didn't focus too much on it, then it wouldn't be too bad. Though Remus was right, this was definitely not normal house-elf standard. It must have to do with this being a hospital, there simply was no other explanation. Hospital food simply was not supposed to taste good.

"Are there any news?", he asked after he had finished with his food.

Remus shrugged, took the tray out of Harry's hand and put it on the bedside table again. "Nothing, really. I dropped by at headquarters to tell them that you have woken up again. They are all very relieved, and I shall send greetings from Kingsley, Arthur, Molly and Ron."

Harry frowned a bit. "Are you released already? The healer told me that I had to stay at least another day."

"I got myself released this morning. The healers were not excited about it, but I was not in the mood to keep lying in bed for any longer. As long as I don't exhaust myself, I should be all right."

Maybe Harry should consider getting himself released as well. Wouldn't work, probably, as he still wasn't of age. So he'd just have to wait it out until he was released.

"Were Mr and Mrs Weasley very angry with Ron?"

"I imagine they were. I wasn't there to witness it, though, so there is nothing I can tell you about it. I know that Kingsley brought him back to Grimmauld Place after the rest of us were brought to St. Mungo's, and I imagine that even if Molly and Arthur had not noticed anything amiss until then, they surely did by the time he came back. I doubt that they were overly excited about what Ron did. After all, he stole his father's portkey and helped you in doing something illegal, dangerous and very, very stupid."

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "I didn't want him to get into any trouble."

"I believe that you didn't, but what did you expect? You know Molly and Arthur, and even if you didn't, no parent would be happy about their child doing what Ron did three days ago. I'm sure they both told him that in no uncertain terms, but if you want to know whether he has to face any repercussions for it, you will have to ask Ron yourself. I don't know, I cannot tell you that."

Harry nodded and drew a deep breath. He had a bad feeling about bringing Ron into this situation, but there was nothing he could do about that now. He guessed that he would be talking with Ron's parents about that, soon, whether he wanted to or not. The silence stretched between Harry and Remus, and it was only broken after a few minutes when Remus crossed his legs, leaned back in his chair and looked at Harry.

"There is something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"All right. What is it?"

Remus looked down at his hands for a moment, as if he was searching for the right words, then he looked up again.

"Aside from the fact that you broke a promise you had given me, that you foolishly risked your life with what you did, and that it was pure luck that saved you in the end, I have to thank you."

Harry frowned. "Thank me? But why?"

"There are two things. First of all, you saved my life. The healers here do not know about my connection with Sirius, so I don't have any medical opinion on it. After all, the Ministry has access to Sirius' medical records, and a blood bond with a werewolf mentioned in his files would indeed be something they might worry about, so I don't see any reasons to tell them about it. But with Sirius no longer behind the veil, there is no reason why he should be drawing from me anymore. The seizures should stop, and I at least have the feeling that I'm starting to get better. I'm sure that Poppy with put me through a thorough examination once she gets me into her clutches, but simple logic tells me that the blood bond should no longer threaten my life now that Sirius is back."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad that you're doing better, but from what I know, you would have been doing better as well after…well, after cutting Sirius off."

Remus nodded slowly. "Yes, probably. But that leads me to the second reason why I have to thank you. For one, I'm glad that I could escape getting poisoned by Severus. I trust him, but it was such an impromptu solution that nobody could know exactly about its possible risks. So many things might have gone wrong, especially considering that my physical condition was not ideal for what we were planning to do. But even more importantly, even if it had worked, it would have meant that Sirius had been gone for good. What you did, as stupid as it was and as lucky as you were, saved both of us, Sirius and me." Remus stopped and drew a deep, slightly shuddering breath. To Harry it seemed as if he was fighting hard to keep his composure, but even though he had gotten to know Remus as somebody who had perfected the art of keeping his demeanour indifferent in most cases, now Harry literally saw his facial expression threatening to slip out of his control again and again. After a few seconds, he had garnered enough control to continue. "I…I had given Sirius up. I believed that there was no other solution than to cut Sirius off. I am Sirius' friend, I love him dearly, and yet I gave him up. It wasn't easy, and probably living with it would have been hard or even unbearable, but fact is I gave him up. You presented a solution, but even that I pushed away because I was not willing to accept its risks. You found a way to save us both, in more than one way, or maybe you were just too bloody stubborn to accept Sirius' death, but in the end it doesn't matter. You saved him where I had already given him up, and for that I am very thankful. More than I can say."

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He didn't quite know what to answer to Remus' words, so he remained silent. During those long minutes while he had been counting the dots on the ceiling, another nagging question had popped up in his mind.

"Will I get expelled?"

Remus frowned. "Why would you get expelled?"

"The laws against underage magic. I blew up my aunt three years ago, and last year when I defended Dudley and myself against that Dementor they already wanted to expel me, even though that was self-defence. Well, what I did in the Department of Mysteries surely topped that quite a bit."

Remus smiled, as if something was greatly amusing him. "If only the Ministry knew, then they'd surely do something against it."

"What do you mean?"  
"That the Ministry doesn't know what exactly it was that you did. You see, the Ministry doesn't monitor you as an underage wizard. That would be horribly difficult in wizarding families where magic is performed everyday. What they monitor is wand-usage. Every wand that is sold to an underage wizard will be monitored by the Ministry. That most people buy their wands from Olivander's makes it a lot easier to control that. He gives the information about the specifics of the wands he sells to new Hogwarts students to the Ministry, and they can control whether one of the wands is used during a time when it shouldn't be used. That's the whole trick behind it, and it also mean that you can do basically everything that is magic without using your wand. You can use the floo-network, you can wear invisibility cloaks, you can brew potions, and you can perform wandless magic. Which is what you did in the Department of Mysteries. Think about it, Harry. Did you use your wand that night?"

Harry thought for a moment, but indeed he could not remember any occasion on which he had used his wand. He had pulled it numerous times, but had not cast a single spell.

"No, I didn't. But then what does the Ministry do to monitor wizarding families? If what you say is true, then Ron could simply take his father's wand, or Bill's or Charlie's, perform magic and nobody would know. And what about that time when Dobby did magic at my relatives' house? The Ministry detected that as well, but they blamed it on me."

Remus frowned. "Theoretically, Ron could do that. That's one of the Ministry's biggest problems in monitoring underage magic. But it isn't as easy as you make it sound. I don't know if you ever performed magic using somebody else's wand, but it requires a lot of skill. Wands are very personal items, another wizard's wand will never work for you as well as your own. For somebody who is no fully trained wizard, it's nearly impossible to perform magic with another person's wand. Of course most kids try to use their parents' or siblings' wands once, but given the less than satisfying results, most only try it once. As for what Dobby did at your house – to be honest, I don't know. But your relatives' house was strongly warded, maybe that messed up with what they detected. Or maybe there was another reason entirely why they detected that and blamed it on you. After all, you were the only one capable of performing magic who was supposed to be at the house at that time. I don't know precisely which security wards are placed at Privet Drive, I only know that normally, the Ministry keeps tabs on the wands, and not on the wizards. If you really want to know, I'm sure Arthur can shed some light on this affair. He has a lot of personal experience on that matter, I believe. And he's more competent in Ministry procedures."

"If I remember it the next time I see him, I'll ask. By the way, do you know what happened to my stuff?"

"Kingsley said that Ron packed it all up and took it to Grimmauld Place. Albus looked through it, from what Molly said he took the book you used and gave it back to Severus, and he took the cloak. Dung somehow _misplaced_ one of the two cloaks we usually used, and Moody refuses to give away his spare cloak until it's absolutely necessary, so we were in dire need of an invisibility cloak to guard Sirius whenever none of the Order members at the Ministry is on the official roster to guard his ward. But you'll get it back before the start of term. Molly mended the tear in the fabric."

Harry nodded absently, not really caring about the invisibility cloak right now. He'd get it back sooner or later, and if it was used to guard Sirius, then it was certainly put to good use.

"Professor Snape is surely furious."

Remus smiled. "I can imagine that he is, I haven't spoken to him yet. He definitely was very angry when we went to the Ministry. But I doubt that he has thought much about it yet. Albus brought him to Hogwarts immediately after we were found, I think he was in as much need of medical help as we were, if not more."

Harry's eyes widened. "He was injured? Why didn't you tell me?"  
"Not injured as such. But what he did was dangerous for him as well. He might come from a family of Necromancers, but during your researches you should have found out that Necromancy is something that requires training. And that is something Severus doesn't have, at least not sufficiently to minimise the dangers of what he was doing in the Death Chamber. From all I know, he's all right but what he did has weakened him remarkably. It won't become pretty, but I think you ought to talk to him once you're both up and about again. Apologise to him."

Harry nodded, though the idea of apologising to Severus Snape was not a thing he looked forward to. Most probably, Snape would not even want to hear what Harry had to say, but Remus was right. He needed to do this. He had a lot of apologising to do in the foreseeable future, but bringing Sirius back had been worth it.

"You knew it, didn't you?"

Remus frowned at Harry's question. "Did I know what?"

"That Professor Snape is a Necromancer. It also explains why he reacted the way he did when I asked him about it."

Remus nodded. "I knew it, yes."

"How come you knew that?"  
Remus drew a deep breath, but instead of speaking, released it again. There was silence for a few beats, then Remus shook his head. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that question, Harry. It's a story which is not mine to tell, though I highly doubt that you'll ever gather it from the only other possible source. I can only tell you that Severus certainly never intended for anybody – much less me – to find out about it, and that I did despite that is a knowledge which does not sit well or comfortable with him."

"Why didn't you tell me? You must have thought about it when you found out I was researching Necromancy."

"I did indeed. But it was not my place to tell anybody about it. Necromancy is not something most wizards see as a talent, and those who have that gift prefer to remain unknown to others who haven't. Just because I know about this doesn't mean that it's my place to tell others about it. Even though, or maybe especially, because I knew you were researching the topic."

"He wouldn't have helped, anyway."

Remus nodded. "No, he probably wouldn't have. Actually, I talked about it to him, and he said explicitly that he wouldn't help."

"In the end, he did help."

"Yes, for two reasons. One was to save your life, the other was to close the portal you had opened again. You had started something that needed to be finished, he didn't have much choice in the matter. Severus didn't do this voluntarily, he did it neither for saving Sirius nor for helping you. Severus was forced to do this, because he was the only one who had the ability to do so. That is one of the reasons why I think you have to apologise to him. I doubt that Severus, if he had been given the choice, would have done that voluntarily."

Harry sighed deeply, and Remus smiled.

"I know that it's much, but that's part about growing up. Those are the consequences of your actions, and now you have to deal with them."

"I know. Doesn't make it easier."

Remus laughed. "No. But nobody promised you it would be easy. Life generally isn't."

Harry nodded. If anybody knew, it was him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

When Severus woke again, the room was no longer dark. That meant he had slept at least through the night, though judged from how much better he felt it could also be that Albus had sedated him for the entire following day and the night afterwards. It was a slightly disturbing experience not to know what day it was and how long he had been sleeping, but sooner or later Severus would find out. If something important had happened, Albus would have let him know. But no matter how long he had been sleeping, he definitely felt better than the last time he had been awake. Weak still, but definitely better. And as he was alone in his quarters and there was nobody around who could have stopped him, he saw absolutely no need to remain lying in bed any longer. With slow and careful movements, he threw back the covers and gradually brought himself into a sitting position. His head began to hurt again and he felt slightly dizzy, but after a moment of breathing deeply, that feeling passed and he swung his legs out of bed. But just as he got up from the bed and tried to stop his legs give in to the feeling that the room was swaying around him, the door to his rooms opened and Albus appeared. Quickly, the older man crossed the distance between himself and Severus and stretched out a hand to steady him.

"Severus, you really should not be up yet."

Severus barely suppressed a groan. "What did you do, place a monitoring charm on my room so that I had no chance of getting up unnoticed?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed I did something like that. Not to watch you, but to make sure that nothing happened to you. After all, nobody except from the two of us know that you are here, and - if I may say so - that you are in a less than healthy condition. And where did you want to go, if I may inquire?"

Severus pulled a grimace. "To the bathroom. And before you say anything, I definitely feel well enough to do that on my own, thank you very much."

He straightened up and walked over towards the door that led into his bathroom. Severus might have been ready to admit that he was weakened remarkably, maybe even that he appreciated Albus' help, but he would not throw away the last of his dignity if he could prevent it. It would take a lot more than physical exhaustion to make him accept help with what he was about to do now. When he came out of the bathroom a few minutes later he felt definitely better, though also rather tired again. So he did not protest when Albus reached for his arm and led him over to the bed. A house elf must have been in the room while he had been in the bathroom, because a tray with tea and toast was standing on his nightstand. Severus sank down onto the mattress and picked up the cup of tea. Albus pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

Severus shrugged. "Better. Not as well as I would like to feel, but that'll pass. Do you have any news?"

Albus looked at him for a moment. "Remus is already up and about again. He got himself released from hospital already. Harry will be released soon. And Sirius woke up again last night."

Severus didn't know if he even wanted to hear the answer to his question, nevertheless he posed it.

"What condition is he in?"

"I don't know, I haven't yet been to see him. But as soon as I know anything, I'll tell you."

Severus didn't know if he had grimaced at those words, but Albus cocked his head to the side and looked at him inquiringly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Dumbledore's voice was gently but Severus didn't look up into the older man's eyes. He knew the force that could be behind this midnight-blue gaze, and today he was sure that he wouldn't be able to stand the look in those eyes without breaking down. It was hard enough to keep the dark memories at bay even when he didn't feel as if Albus could read every single of his thoughts with a single gaze. He kept his gaze fixed on the cup of tea in his slightly shaking hands.

"Talk about what?"

The words came out harsher than he had intended, but there was no taking them back now. Albus either didn't notice, or he didn't mind.

"About what happened once Harry let go off the connection. I know that you have never been forced to go this far before. I am no Necromancer, I might not be able to relate to what you have experienced, but I'm always willing to listen."

Severus breathed in deeply, a breath which was a bit too shaky and shuddering for his own liking.

"I don't know", he finally said. "Would it help talking about it? Do I even want to talk about it? I just don't know, Albus. I only know that I never want to experience something like that again."

Albus remained silent after this, but he also didn't make any move to leave the room. One reason why he had put the monitoring charm on Severus' rooms was not only the potions master's physical condition, but also that he didn't know how Severus would react to what he had been through mentally. Severus drank his tea and stared at his own hands for long minutes.

"It was pure luck", he finally said in a low, but steady voice. "Pure luck that I brought Black back, pure luck that I managed to come back at all." Severus bit his lip and shook his head as if to free himself from a particularly unpleasant memory. "It was like being sucked into a void. I didn't know where I was, how I was supposed to get to Black, or even how I was supposed to get back. And then…", he swallowed and shook his head at Albus who had wanted to place a hand on Severus' shoulder. Severus knew he couldn't stand to be touched now. Albus withdrew his hand and silently leaned back in his chair. Severus was staring down at his hands again.

"They were everywhere, all of a sudden, as if they sensed that I was able to bring them back. It's hard to describe, Albus. It felt like being dragged into a hundred directions at once by hands so cold that they burned into my skin. I was telling them to stop, telling them that I had come for Black and Black alone, but they weren't listening. I…I knew I wasn't trained, that I wasn't sufficiently prepared to perform this kind of magic, but I had never thought that it would be this bad. I don't remember what happened, I only know that it was the worst thing I've been through in my entire life."

Finally, he looked up at Albus, and the headmaster nearly flinched as he saw the hollow and pained expression in the younger man's eyes. He cared deeply for Severus Snape, though most others did not understand the reasons for this close connection. But Albus and Severus knew what their friendship, formal as it might seem at times, was based on. Unlimited trust, for one. Trust that had been forged in the most dire of situations, years and years back.

"No matter who asks it of me, not matter what is at stake, I will never do this again. Even if I could succeed one more time, I know I wouldn't come back whole again. I couldn't do it again, ever."

Albus nodded at him then, and gently pressed Severus back into the mattress with a hand on his forehead.

"It was always my biggest fear that Voldemort would demand this sacrifice from you one day. And as I realized that you had been forced into doing it, I was afraid you would not come back again. I'm thankful that you had the strength to return whole and unbroken even without the sufficient training. I was afraid you would not make it."

Severus saw that Albus was swallowing hard against his emotions, yet he didn't know what to say. Severus knew after all the years that Albus cared about him, but knowing it and reacting to it were two entirely different things. Severus wasn't used to people caring about him. So he simply closed his eyes and allowed his tired mind to drift off.

"I simply never want to do this again, Albus. Never again."

"I promise I won't put you into such a situation again. I know it might not be enough, but I promise you at least the little that I can."

Severus didn't react, but with a smile Dumbledore noticed how the younger man's breathing had evened out. He let his hand remain on Severus' forehead for a moment longer, then he pulled the blanket up to Severus' shoulders, got up from his chair and walked out of the room.


	37. Unexpected Complications

**Chapter 37 – Unexpected Complications**

The next morning, Harry was supposed to be released from hospital. Remus still had his things at Hogwarts, even though he had spent the past nights at Grimmauld Place, so he wanted to use Dumbledore's request to come to his office early in the morning to get some things she needed. His surprise when he flooed into the headmaster's office and found his suitcase as well as Harry's trunk standing against one wall was big. Dumbledore got up from his chair and went over to greet Remus.

"Good morning, Remus. Just in time. Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Good morning, Albus. Tea would be fine, thank you."

He sat down in a chair on the other side of the headmaster's desk and accepted the cup Dumbledore handed him. It was strong breakfast tea with just a hint of milk, just like Remus liked it. He had never fully understood what others found in coffee, he drank it occasionally, but he'd prefer a good tea anytime.

"The healer said that Harry would be released after the morning examination. I think we can fetch him at around nine."

Remus nodded. "As his things are standing packed here in your office, I take it he won't come back here?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I imagine that he'll feel more comfortable together with his friends. He'll be back here in less than two weeks, it might be good for him to get a bit distance to the castle before that."

"What about security questions?"

Dumbledore shrugged slightly and took a sip of his tea. "Of course he's safer here than in London. By far. But we all have to admit that the Branson murders did not prove to be the start of what we anticipated. Everybody is busy, but not as busy as I thought they would be when I decided to bring Harry to the castle. Not to the degree that Harry's safety would be jeopardised. Severus is still in no physical condition to continue their Occlumency lessons, so if Harry wants to go to Grimmauld Place, I don't see why we should keep him from doing so."

Remus nodded, feeling that this was not all Dumbledore had asked him to come for. The headmaster remained silent for some long minutes, then he put down his cup of tea.

"I imagine that while I bring Harry and his and your things to Grimmauld Place, you might want to visit Sirius. He is awake now. I took the liberty of announcing your upcoming visit to him yesterday evening at the Ministry."

Remus' eyes widened at Dumbledore's words and he leaned forward. "He's allowed to have visitors?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Then why don't Harry and I go to visit him before we go to Grimmauld Place?"

"I doubt that it would be a good idea if Harry visited him just now."

Remus frowned. "What is wrong, Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It is too early to say anything definite about his condition now, Remus. He has only woken up a day ago, he's probably still very confused. But Harry imagined Sirius to come back the way he was before, and at the moment I don't think that Sirius is quite the way he was before."

"What is wrong with Sirius?", Remus repeated. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Maybe it's just a temporary condition, but I'd feel more at ease if you visited him without Harry first and made up your mind about it. When I visited Sirius last night, the healers said he had been awake for quite a few hours already. The problem is that his condition hasn't improved any."

"What do you mean?"

"He is awake. Obviously, the healers say that he reacts to physical stimuli – muscle reflexes, his eyes react to light, all that. What he doesn't react to is everything else. He doesn't speak, doesn't seem to listen when spoken to. He just lies in bed and stares ahead."

"What do the healers say?"

"That they can't say anything as of yet. It could be a temporary condition, or it couldn't be. They just don't know."

Remus felt a sick feeling starting to spread in the pit of his stomach. That didn't sound good, not good at all. There had been risks, of course, but if he was honest with himself, after Sirius had been brought back physically, Remus had entertained the belief that everything would be all right. That Sirius would wake up, be his old self again, cheerful persona and bark-like laugh included. Not the depressed Sirius who had been caged up at Grimmauld Place, a Sirius who finally had the chance to start living again. That it might not be so was a crushing thought. Maybe temporary. Maybe permanent. Merlin, please let it be temporary.

They finished their tea in silence, then Dumbledore shrunk Remus' suitcase and Harry's trunk, and while Remus pocketed his own belongings, Dumbledore picked up Harry's trunk. They flooed directly from the headmaster's office into the hospital's entrance hall. Here, Remus stopped the old headmaster before they proceeded.

"If you don't think it's wise for Harry to visit Sirius, then it might be better if you fetched him alone. As soon as he gets to know that I'm going to visit Sirius, he'll want to come along and there won't be any convincing him otherwise."

Dumbledore nodded. "You are right. You know which ward Sirius is in?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll bring Harry to Grimmauld Place. I might still be there when you come back, if you don't mind sharing your impressions with me, I'd want to talk to you about it."

Remus nodded. "Sure. I'll let you know when I'm back. I don't think it will take hours."

Dumbledore looked at Remus for another moment, though try as he might, Remus could not interpret the old headmaster's gaze, then Dumbledore went away in the direction of Harry's room. Remus took the elevator up and turned his steps down a corridor to the secluded ward where Sirius was. As soon as his condition had stabilised, Sirius had been brought here, away from the centre of the hospital. Here, it was far easier to guard his room and to keep him from getting into any contact with the other inmates of the hospital. After all, Sirius was still officially labelled as an escaped convict, so he needed to be secluded and guarded. But Remus didn't think about that as he walked down the corridor towards the door to Sirius' ward. Dumbledore's words were still ringing in his head and he was trying to make sense of them.

What could it mean that Sirius was not reaction? That could have a lot of meanings, and maybe twice as many possible explanations. It could mean that Sirius was still somewhat confused and exhausted, and thusly not behaving like his old, exuberant self. But wouldn't Dumbledore have noticed that? Wouldn't he have kept it to himself if he considered it just a passing condition? Remus didn't know the answer to those questions, and he probably would not find it in the few moments that would pass before he entered Sirius' ward and found out for himself.

In front of Sirius' ward was a table, and two Aurors were positioned there to guard the door and checked who entered the ward. Remus was relieved to find that one of them was Kingsley Shacklebolt. Tonks obviously was out of question for the job because she was related to Sirius, but nobody would consider Kingsley a risk of security for the prisoner. After all, Kingsley had been the one who had hunted Sirius for the past years. Nobody at the Ministry knew that Kingsley had been aware of Sirius' whereabouts all the time. Remus didn't know the other Auror, but he didn't worry that one of the two would stop him from visiting Sirius.

Kingsley looked up as Remus approached.

"Good morning", he said, not giving any indication that he knew Remus at all. "Can I help you?"

"I wanted to visit Mr. Black", Remus said, like Kingsley not letting it show that he had had a pleasant chat over dinner with Kingsley just the previous evening. "The visit should have been announced at the Ministry."

Kingsley pulled a piece of parchment out of a book that lay in front of him and produced a quill.

"And your name would be?"

"Remus Lupin."

Kingsley scanned the list, found an entry and wrote something on the parchment. Then he opened the book in front of him and handed Remus the quill.

"All visitors have to sign in. We have to check you for hidden weapons and you have to leave your wand with us."

Remus nodded, changed the quill from his right hand into his left and signed his name into the list of visitors to Sirius' ward. The list was short, other than an entry for Dumbledore, there were only the names of two Ministry officials who had come before the Hogwarts headmaster. On the other side of the opened page there was a list for the nurses and doctors to sign in. That list was remarkably longer than the one with Sirius' visitors. Remus checked his watch and added the time, 9.05, then he handed Kingsley the quill back.

Kingsley checked what Remus had written, then he closed the book again. "Your wand please."

Remus pulled his wand from the pocket of his robes and handed it to the tall, black Auror, then he took a step back and waited patiently for the younger Auror to spell-search him for any concealed weapons.

"All right, you can go see him now Mr. Lupin. Keep in mind that Mr. Black is a Ministry prisoner. It's my duty to inform you that any attempt you might make at freeing him will lead to immediate prosecution. As will any attempt at enabling Mr. Black to keep contact to anybody outside of St. Mungo's. Also, Mr. Black is a potentially dangerous man, so it would be wise not to provoke him. Should you get into any trouble or should Mr. Black need to be subdued, call us in immediately. That's about it, you have fifteen minutes."

Remus had to hide a smile. The Ministry didn't want Sirius to get into contact with anybody, yet they allowed him to have visitors and had unknowingly put somebody up as his guard who probably regularly gave Sirius all the information he needed. Sometimes, the Ministry was illogic, even bizarre in their actions. But that was perfectly all right with Remus for now, as long as Kingsley was on duty for a few hours every day, at least during that time Sirius was safe from any attempt the Ministry might make to stop him from getting a fair trial. Remus still wasn't convinced that Fudge would easily accept freeing Sirius and thusly showing the public just how fallible the government was.

Kingsley got up from his chair and produced a key ring from the pocket of his robes. Selecting one of the keys, he stepped up to the door and Remus followed him. They were a step away from the other Auror now, but not far enough to ensure that the man would not hear what was being said between them. Kingsley opened the door and gestured for Remus to enter.

"Good luck", he said lowly, and there was something in his voice that made the worry about Dumbledore's earlier words flare up again. Maybe it wasn't bad at all, maybe it really was only a temporary confusion. And maybe he was just telling himself that to avoid being hopelessly crushed if it proved not to be. Hesitantly, Remus entered Sirius' ward, his heart beating fast in his chest. No matter what Dumbledore's words meant, it could not be that bad. Sirius was back, that alone was an improvement over Sirius being dead. Everything else they would deal with. Sirius was alive, that was all that counted.

Remus found Sirius lying in his bed, on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He looked gaunt and tired, though not as bad as he had done directly after his escape from Azkaban. Remus was no healer, but he guessed that more than two months caught in the void had taken a physical toll on him. Sirius looked definitely as if he could do with a couple of nourishing meals. His cheeks were hollow, his normally so expressive blue eyes were sunken and numb, and his face had the pallor of candle-wax. A few days in the sun definitely wouldn't hurt. There were a few thin streaks of grey in his shoulder-length black hair which had not been there before he had fallen thought the veil, marks of weeks of physically and mentally challenging times. But Sirius had not reacted in any way to hearing the door being opened, or to the sound of steps approaching his bed.

When Remus stepped up close, he found that indeed he had not been mistaken earlier. Sirius' eyes were open, and he was staring numbly up at the ceiling. But not as if there was something greatly interesting to find there. On the contrary. His gaze was numb, unseeing, with nothing at all behind it. He blinked occasionally, but not often, and it was obviously just an automatic bodily reflex. Something inside Remus' chest clenched together.

"Sirius? Sirius, it's me, Remus."

Sirius didn't react, not even a blinking of the eyes which Remus could have taken as a sign of recognition. The blue eyes just continued to stare numbly at the ceiling.

"Padfoot, it's me. Moony. I can't tell you how glad I am that you are back."

Again, Remus received no reaction. With shaking fingers, he reached underneath the blanket that was pulled up to Sirius' chest and took hold of one of his friend's hands. Sirius' skin was reassuringly warm, and on his wrist Remus could feel the comforting and steady pulse throbbing against his fingers. But as he squeezed Sirius' hand, there was no reaction.

Remus swallowed down his fear and frustration, and without letting go of Sirius' hand he pulled up a chair with his foot and sat down beside the bed.

"I don't exactly have much time, they're going to call me out soon. Talk to me, Sirius, please. You're back now, you're safe. Please come back, please don't do this to me. To Harry. He needs you, Padfoot. You have to be there for him now. You don't even know what lengths he went to bring you back, you can't let us down now. You have to come back."

Remus sat beside his friend's bed for the better part of the following fifteen minutes, talking without receiving any reaction at all. He told Sirius about Harry, how happy his godson was that he was back, that he needed Sirius now. But no matter what he said, no matter what he did, he received no perceptible reaction at all. Sirius was breathing, he blinked occasionally, and whenever Remus reached for his pulse he found it strong and steady. But those were the only visible signs that Sirius was alive, and not a dead body on a bier.

After what hadn't felt like fifteen minutes at all, Remus heard the door being opened, and Kingsley's voice calling out to him.

"Mr. Lupin, your time is up."

Remus nodded without looking at the door and got up from his chair.

"I'll come back as soon as I can", he said, squeezed Sirius' hand once more, released it and turned towards the door. Even as he left, Sirius remained in his previous position, still staring up at the ceiling. Kingsley waited for Remus to pass, worriedly trying to meet the other Order member's gaze, but Remus refused to look at him. He passed Kingsley and went over towards the desk where he signed out and received his wand back. Without saying another word, he turned down the corridor. He had to hold himself back from not downright storming towards the elevator, but though it was an effort, he forced himself to walk slowly. Kingsley might guess that the visit had not gone like Remus had imagined it to go, but he didn't need to know just how much it had shaken Remus. And shaken him it had. Down to the core. This was not Sirius. It looked like Sirius all right, and he didn't seem to have suffered any severe physical damage that had changed his appearance. But this lack of response, this lack of any other then the physical signs of vitality were horrible. This was just a shell, a shell that had once housed Sirius' cheerful and energetic self. And now it seemed empty. Remus was scared by this, far more scared than he had been by anything in a long time. So far, nothing had managed to break Sirius. Of course, Azkaban had left his marks, Remus had more than a year of experience with Sirius to say that. But even twelve years in the wizarding prison had not managed to get to Sirius that way, they had not managed to tear his core away. Ten weeks behind the veil seemed to have done that job pretty thoroughly, though.

And Remus was worried how Harry might take that. He knew that Harry would be devastated if he was confronted with his godfather in such a state. Right now Harry needed the reassurance that what he had done had been worth the risk, he certainly didn't need this unresponsive person who only outwardly resembled the godfather Harry had missed so much. And Remus would not allow Harry to be hurt any further. He would find out what had changed Sirius, find out why he was the way he was now. And then he'd go and change that.

But first, he needed to find out what could be the possible reason for Sirius' state. And for that, he needed to ask the only other person who had been involved into bringing Sirius back. Severus was the only other person who had been to the place where Sirius had been caught, if anybody knew what had happened to him there, it was him.

That resolution firmly in his head, Remus entered the elevator, took it down into the lobby and went over to the public fireplaces.

Upon arriving in the castle, he was still as confused about Sirius' reaction as he had been before. And he knew that it would not be easy to get the answers he wanted out of Snape. On the contrary, if Snape was set on not answering Remus' questions, then it would be impossible to get any useful information out of the potions master.

Dumbledore had said that Snape was still too weak to resume his Occlumency lessons with Harry. That might be the case, and it might also be true that Snape had no desire to continue those lessons until he had given Harry a good telling off about what the teenager had forced him to do. If he would resume the lessons at all. But no matter his physical state, Remus doubted that Snape was still lying in bed. Remus knew his former classmate rather well, and if he was not all that mistaken then Snape would not be lying in bed anymore if nobody had physically restrained him. It was a feeling Remus could relate to, and so he was not surprised to hear the potions master bid him enter only a moment after he had knocked on his workroom door.

"Severus, good morning."

Snape was standing behind a worktable, a smoking cauldron in front of him and jars and vials of ingredients orderly lined up to his right. A book was floating in the air a few inches above the table so that Snape could consult it whenever he needed without the danger of spilling anything onto it. Snape was glaring at Remus as he entered the room, clearly showing him that he didn't care at all about the unexpected intrusion. The only sign that he had not been physically well only recently was the way he was leaning onto the counter for support, and the long-legged chair that was standing next to him so that he could sit down if his strength ran out. His glare, however, was as strong as ever.

"Lupin? What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you."

Snape shook his head. "Not now. I've got work to do."

Despite those words, Remus stepped further into the room and went around the workbench. He threw a glance into the book, trying to determine what it was that Snape was brewing there. He didn't recognize the potion, but that didn't have to mean anything. His potions knowledge was limited, to say the least.

"Does Albus know that you're working again?"

"I was not aware that he needs to be informed immediately about everything I do. Or are you trying to blackmail me, threatening to go tell on me if I don't talk to you?"

"Nothing of the above, Severus. I was just thinking that he might not like to see you up and about again so shortly after you nearly died. Much less see you working again."

Snape only shrugged. "I appreciate his concern, but he knows that it's futile to tell me what to do. So, will you finally tell me what it is that you're here for, or have you come for no other reason than to annoy me?"

"I visited Sirius this morning."

Snape raised an eyebrow and emptied the contents of a small vial into the cauldron, upon which a light yellow sheen started to spread across its amber surface.

"And that is my concern because…?"

"Do you know what happened to him?"

Snape stirred the brew in the cauldron and finally looked up to meet Remus' eyes.

"What do you mean 'what happened to him'? He was as good as dead and I was forced to bring him back. That's what happened to him, at least as far as I know. I thought that information had already reached you, as well."

"I know that, Severus. That is not why I'm here. I wanted to ask you if you noticed anything strange when you attempted to bring him back."

Snape hesitated for a moment, then he suddenly put his stirring-spoon down, extinguished the fire under the cauldron with a wave of his wand and sat down on the chair. There was a strange emotion in his eyes, only for a short moment, but though Remus could not say what it was, he noticed it.

"What is wrong with Black?", Snape asked in a tight voice. Remus pulled up another chair and sat down so that he was facing his former classmate.

"At first I didn't know what to make of it when Albus told me that Sirius was unresponsive when he visited him. I thought he maybe was still confused or shocked about what happened."

"That was not what he meant?"

Remus shook his head and sighed heavily.

"I wish it was, but no, it was not what he meant."

Snape strangely didn't press Remus, he merely watched him until Remus started to talk again.

"Basically, Sirius is unresponsive, just as Albus said. He gave no sign of recognition during my entire visit. There is no sign of life in him except from the physical signs. Something is horribly wrong with him, and I need to know what it is."

Remus had the impression that Snape had paled somewhat while he had been talking, but given the other man's normally waxen complexion and his physical state during the past days, he could not tell for sure. As if to evade answering the question, Snape slowly got up and walked over to one of the counters to pour himself a cup of tea. He didn't offer a cup to Remus, but then again Remus hadn't expected him to. Snape took a sip, sat back down and took another sip. Remus' patience was running thin, but he managed to remain calm for the moment.

"Severus, I know that I might never truly understand what you did when you brought Sirius back. But I can see that something has changed. Something vital about Sirius is different, just as if an integral part of him had not returned. And I need to know what has caused that. I need to know what that means."

Snape sighed and put his cup on the table next to himself.

"I told you when you first came to me with that ridiculous idea for the first time. I told you that Necromancy is nothing that can be controlled properly, especially if it is performed by a Necromancer who is not trained properly. And knowing you as well as I do, I'm sure you've read everything about Necromancy you could get your hands on in the short amount of time you had. So what is it that you want to know of me? Some souls come back from the netherworld and are…changed. Different. Put it as you like, but there has never been a guarantee to get Black back the way he was before. Now, to my mind most changes about him would be an improvement, but the moral evaluation of it aside, there isn't much I can tell you. Sometimes, those things just happen."

"_What_ things?"

"That souls are not brought back entirely. That people who are resurrected have changed."

"Do you want to tell me that I simply have to accept it? That this shell in the hospital bed is Sirius, and that this is all there is to it?"

Slowly, Snape nodded.

"I would not know a way to remedy that. Black has been somewhere where no living human soul was ever supposed to be. That is an experience which is bound to leave its marks, and in his case it might very well be that his mental capacity has suffered."

"_His mental capacity has suffered_? You're talking as if this was just something that happens occasionally, like a potion boiling over! I for one won't accept my best friend becoming a lifeless shell as collateral damage!"

Snape calmly shook his head and picked up his teacup again.

"First of all, a potion boiling over is not something that _happens occasionally_. At least not to somebody who knows what he is doing. It is painfully obvious that you wouldn't know anything about it, but I have not prepared a faulty potion for years, just so you know. And secondly, I would say it's far too early to tell whether Black has suffered any permanent damage, so I really don't understand what you're making such a fuss about."

"What happened, Severus?"

Remus' face was close to Snape's, and he stared hard into the black eyes in front of him. Snape stared back just as hard, all emotion vanished from his gaze.

"I won't let you load any responsibility for Black's state on me, Lupin. I refused to attempt bringing him back, and I would not have done it under any other circumstances. I did it solely to stop Potter from killing himself, nothing more. So you can't fault me for anything."

"This is not about placing the blame, Severus. I was there, I know what happened. And I know that you did not exactly volunteer to bring Sirius back. You saved my life with what you did, do you really think I would start blaming you for anything now? I simply want to know what happened, because I am sure that something _did_ happen. And all I want to know is what that is, so that I can try and do something against it."

Snape raised his hands in indignation. "I do not know what happened, is that so hard to understand? I do not exactly remember much about what happened during my attempt to bring Black back." He got up from his chair and walked over towards the wall opposite of the fireplace. "Do you have any idea what it is like to perform a necromantic rite?"

He stood in front of his bookshelf, running his finger along the spines of the books as if seeing them for the very first time. His back was turned towards Remus, though, and he made no move to face him.

"No, I don't", Remus said lowly. Snape nodded.

"I thought as much. It's like throwing yourself in a lake full of piranhas to find the single goldfish that is somewhere in there. And there is no hiding what you are, they know it immediately. They latch onto you, trying to pull you in deeper, trying to make you take them back. It's easy to get lost, and I got lost. I just don't remember what happened. It was pure luck that I got out of there alive, and even more luck that I brought Black alone. I do not know how I did it, I cannot tell you if anything happened, and I do not want to talk about it any further. Not now, and neither at some point in the future. Leave now."

He remained standing with his back to Remus, and the only movement Remus could see was the raising and falling of his shoulders in time with his breaths. More rapid than before. Agitated. Clearly, Remus had touched a topic Snape didn't want to think about. As it was obvious that his former classmate would not speak to him anymore, so Remus got up and left the workroom. Severus remained standing in the same position for some long minutes, then he drew a deep breath and went back to preparing his potion.


	38. Damage Inspection

**Chapter 38 – Damage Inspection**

Harry was a bit surprised to find that it was Dumbledore who had come to fetch him from the hospital and not Remus. But as the headmaster didn't offer any explanation as to why this was so, Harry didn't ask. He guessed he'd meet Remus sooner or later, probably his former teacher was busy with something and didn't have the time to fetch him. Dumbledore exchanged a few words with the healer who was in charge of Harry's treatment. Finally, though, the moment of Harry's release had come.

"Can we go and visit Sirius before we leave?", Harry asked as they left his room and went down the corridor. Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid this isn't possible right now. The Ministry is keeping him under a very strict guard, you would need a permission to visit him. Give it another few days, I'm sure things will be easier then."

Harry didn't want to wait another few days. He didn't want to wait another few hours, he wanted to see that his godfather was truly back, with his own eyes. He trusted Remus and Dumbledore that he was back, but it was a bit tiring to hear them talk about Sirius without being able to convince him of his godfather's return with his own eyes. But he didn't have a say in this, as usual.

"Are we going back to Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, we are not. I thought you might be more comfortable if you returned to Grimmauld Place for the remaining holidays. Your friends are there, and Remus will return there as well. It's not as safe, but there are more people around, and at the moment it's not too busy or too dangerous there."

Harry understood this to mean that there were more people at Grimmauld Place to watch out that he would not do anything stupid again. Actually, he didn't particularly care where he went to, but Grimmauld Place meant facing Ron, Hermione and the remaining Weasley family. Hermione was still angry with him, Ron had surely been punished for helping Harry with his plan to bring back Sirius, and the Weasleys might be angry with him for involving Ron into his plan in the first place. Not very good conditions for returning to Grimmauld Place right now, but experience had told him that there was nothing he could do about this right now. He'd just move back to Grimmauld Place and see what awaited him there.

And that was exactly what they did. Much to Harry's dismay, they went past the public fireplaces in the entrance hall without sparing them even the smallest glance. Instead, Dumbledore led them into the far off corner of the room and pulled a comic book out of his pocket which he held out to Harry. The teenager sighed.

"A portkey."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Yes, I know that you don't like them. But I'm afraid we can't get around using a portkey today. It's fastest, and far less complicated."

Harry sighed dramatically, but he stepped closer and obediently grabbed one corner of the comic book. He would never like portkeys, yet somehow he was always forced to use them. One more year until he could learn how to apparate. Just one more year.

As he was still contemplating the possible safer options of wizarding travel, the portkey activated and Harry felt the telltale tuck behind his navel which initiated the portkey travel. A breathless moment later, Harry opened his eyes – strangely he always closed them during those travels – and found himself in the basement kitchen ad No. 12, Grimmauld Place. He unconsciously loosened his grip on the comic book, but barely noticed that Dumbledore pocketed it again. Instead, his gaze was drawn immediately to the kitchen table.

Molly and Arthur Weasley were sitting there, Tonks sitting opposite of them and Dung at the far end of the table, seemingly pretending not to be there. Harry swallowed hard, not really knowing how to confront Ron's parents now, but for the moment Dumbledore saved him from worrying about it. The headmaster stepped towards the table.

"Has Remus returned yet?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "No, he wasn't here. If he hasn't come in through the front door and gone upstairs directly, then he's still at St. Mungo's."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Remus was at St. Mungo's? Then why hadn't he come to fetch him? Harry knew why without thinking overly much about it. Because Remus was visiting Sirius, that was why. There was no other reason why Remus should be in the hospital this morning. And even though both he and Dumbledore knew how desperately Harry wanted to see his godfather, nobody had told him about it. Instead, Dumbledore had told him this nonsense story about him needing a permission to visit Sirius. It couldn't be too difficult to get one, not if Remus was allowed to visit, could it?

Dumbledore exchanged a few more words with Mr. Weasley, then he pulled something Harry recognised as his own trunk out of the pocket of his robes and waved his wand above it. Immediately, the trunk popped back to its normal size, and with another wave of the wand it vanished entirely. Dumbledore winked at Harry.

"If I haven't made a mistake, it should be in the room you and young Mr. Weasley share. Now, there are other things I have to attend to. But I'm sure we'll see each other during the next couple of days. Until then, Harry."

He nodded at Molly, Arthur, Tonks and Dung, then he left the kitchen through the door. Harry sighed deeply and turned towards the kitchen table. Dung was still sitting there, unmoving, either asleep or deeply lost in thought. Tonks was smiling at Harry, but the Weasleys had sombre looks on their faces, as if they, too, didn't quite know how to confront Harry now.

"Hello", Harry carefully ventured. Molly wordlessly looked at him for another short moment, then she forced a smile and got up from her chair.

"Hello Harry", she said and went over towards the stove. "I'll make you some breakfast."

"No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley", Harry said hastily. "I have eaten at the hospital, you really don't need to prepare something for me now." Of course Harry had noticed that all the usual exuberance Molly Weasley showed in greeting him had missed today, and he asked himself just how awkward things would be from now on. Mrs. Weasley remained standing in front of the hearth, shifting around pots and pans as if she didn't quite know what to do with herself. Tonks got up from her chair.

"Hello Harry. It's good to see you back again."

She smiled and gave him a quick hug, then she stepped back. "I gotta go, there's a meeting at the Ministry I have to attend to."

To Harry it sounded like a lame excuse, especially since Tonks said goodbye to him and before she left the kitchen pulled Dung up by the elbow and led the man out of the room. Harry helplessly remained standing in the middle of the room for another moment, then he went over towards the table and sat down on a chair so that he was facing Mr. Weasley.

"Hello Harry", Mr. Weasley said, and Harry drew in a deep breath to tell his best friend's parents immediately that he was sorry for what he had done and that he hadn't wanted to bring any trouble upon Ron, but somehow the words died in his throat. He looked at Mr. Weasley for a moment, then turned his eyes into his lap, watching how his hands nervously kneaded each other.

"Everything went well at the hospital?"

Harry's head shot up at Mr. Weasley's question, and for a moment he was so surprised that he had to search for an answer.

"Yes. Everything went all right, thanks. Erm…where is Ron?"

"Upstairs, doing his homework. I imagine he'll be spending most of the remaining holidays up in the room you two share."

Harry swallowed and forced himself to keep looking into Mr. Weasley's eyes.

"Mr. Weasley, I'm sorry that I got Ron involved in this. I really didn't want him to get into any trouble."

"Then what do you think asking him to steal something from me would mean, other than getting him into trouble?"

Harry drew a deep breath and searched for a proper answer to this. He found none. So instead, Mr. Weasley continued.

"Harry, you know that we care about you, very much so. Ron is nearly sixteen years old now, of course he should be able to make his own decisions, he should know what is wrong and what is right. He should be able to say no to you when you ask something of him that will get him into trouble. We've always been in favour of his friendship with you, but over the course of the past years, the two of you have managed to get yourself into one tight spot after the other. And always you came out of that relatively unharmed. Now, I know that blind luck runs out one day, I know that you can't rely on it to continue forever, and that is something the two of you will have to learn. I find it incredibly hard to believe that my own son trusts this blind luck enough to go and take something from me without my permission, and that all to help you in another harebrained scheme, one you cooked up on your own this time. I do not want to watch my son's blind luck run out one day, Harry. Especially not right now, with out world being dangerous enough as it is. And neither do I want to watch how your luck runs out. And if it's the last thing I do, I will not let Ron or you continue to risk your lives like that. No matter what it's for."

"Yeah, I know", Harry snapped, angry all of a sudden, though he didn't quite know why. He knew he had done many stupid things, especially during the past days, but he didn't need everybody to rub it in, again and again. "I know I'm not allowed to do anything that hasn't been planned and approved before I've saved the world from Voldemort."

Mr. Weasley flinched as Harry used Voldemort's name, but his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Do you think that's the reason? Do you really think that is what I think? What we think?"

From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley stepping up beside her husband, but he turned his eyes back to Mr. Weasley as the man continued to speak.

"Harry, the sole and simple reason why I won't stand by to watch you put your life at risk is that I care about you. Our whole family cares about you, and that never was because you were Harry Potter, the famous defeater of You-Know-Who. I had hoped you know that."

Harry shrugged and his mouth drew together in a tight and angry line. He did know, though it felt good to hear Mr. Weasley confirm it. And though he was angry, it was unjustified to unleash that anger on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but they just didn't see the point. He knew it was foolish, it had been a horribly risky thing to do, but didn't they see why he had done it? Didn't they see that Sirius had been worth risking all this for?

"I know that. But do you think that I plan on getting into that kind of trouble? Do you think that I ask for Voldemort to keep popping up in my life?"

Again, Mr. Weasley flinched at the mentioning of the Dark Lord's name. So did Mrs. Weasley, but she quickly found her voice again.

"With what you did this time, you seemingly took a lot of time to develop a plan."

"To bring Sirius back. Nobody believed me that he could be brought back, what should I have done? Nobody wanted to listen to me, I had to take things into my own hands before they cut him off forever."

Mrs. Weasley drew a deep breath, then she looked straight at Harry. "Albus told us what exactly happened in the Ministry that night, Harry. And there were reasons why everybody told you that this was no way to bring Sirius back."

"Well, it brought him back, didn't it?", Harry snapped back, his voice icy because he remembered all the things Mrs. Weasley had said about Sirius, all those things which she had had no right to say about him, no matter what had happened between them in the past. But instead of getting angry, Mrs. Weasley sighed and sadly shook her head.

"That is the core of what Arthur was trying to tell you. Yes, you did the impossible and managed to bring Sirius back. We don't yet know all the consequences, but you managed to bring him back. So far, every time you threw yourself into danger, you succeeded and everybody came out alive. Whenever you threw yourself into something reckless, you managed to come out of it and what you had set out to do worked out. The problem is, this will not always remain this way. And of course neither Arthur nor I want to see Ron come to harm because of his loyalty to you, but just as little do we want to see you come to any harm. You cannot rely on things to work out all by themselves every time. We don't want to see you hurt one day because you didn't consider the risks for yourself, or for somebody else involved. We're glad that you're both unharmed, we're glad that Severus and Remus are fine, and that Sirius is back. But the end does not justify the means, Harry. Ron took something from us which he shouldn't have, and you did something that was so illegal that you'd have ended up in prison had anybody seen you. You forced Severus into this, as well as Albus to cover up for you. But there won't always be Albus to cover up for you. What you did was not only about you and Sirius, there were far too many other people endangered and involved. We just want you to think about that, and keep it in mind the next time you think about doing something."

Harry sighed and shook his head. His anger had gone as quickly as it had come, but in all honesty he didn't want to have this conversation again. Not here, not now.

"I really didn't want to cause as much trouble as all this did. And I know that it wasn't all as easy and simple as I thought. Though it worked, and it did something good. It brought back somebody about whom I care very much. Probably I have done a lot of things wrongly, but that can't be changed anymore now."

"No", Mr. Weasley said. "It can't be changed anymore. But I hope you do everything to stop something like this from happening again. Your life is dangerous enough, you don't need to add anything to it."

Harry nodded silently for a moment, then he got up from his chair.

"I'd better go upstairs and see what Ron is up to."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, and she and her husband silently watched Harry as he walked out of the kitchen. Somehow, Harry had a strange feeling about this conversation. He liked the Weasleys, he cared very much for them and was immensely thankful for everything they had done for him. This had been the first time he had seen them angry or disappointed at him. Before, he had only witnessed those emotions directed to one of their own children, and though it should maybe make him feel even more as a part of the family, it made him feel strange about his whole relation to them. He was worried that things would stay as awkward now as this conversation had suggested. Those thoughts buzzed through his head as he climbed up the stairs and went towards the room he had shared with Ron during his previous times at Grimmauld Place.

When he entered the room, he found Ron sitting at the small table underneath the window, brooding over a stack of parchments. One of the holiday assignments which he had not finished yet, Harry supposed. He looked up as he heard the door open.

"Hey", Harry said and entered the room, closing the door behind himself.

"Hello Harry", Ron said, then he threw his quill down onto the parchment with a heavy sigh. "Say, have you written that Charms assignment yet? I just can't get the hang on the theory of those stupid Vanishing Spells Flitwick wanted us to write about."

"Yeah, I did write the essay. Mind you, it's probably not the best one I've written in my life, but you can have a look at it if you want to."

"I'd be eternally grateful. By the way, a few minutes ago a trunk which looks suspiciously like yours suddenly materialised over there", he gestured towards the other side of the room. "A pretty loud arrival on top of that. Gave me the hell of a scare, I can tell you. I've had to start the second scroll of parchment again because of the scare it gave me." He showed a half-filled scroll of parchment to Harry. Somewhere in the middle, Ron's writing had stopped abruptly and a long line of ink ran across what he had written. Probably the hand holding his quill had slipped due to the loud arrival of Harry's trunk. "Care to explain it?"

"Dumbledore", Harry said as he went over towards his trunk and opened it in search for his Charms essay. "He sent it upstairs after we arrived."

He found the essay, smoothed out the parchments and carried them over to Ron, who gratefully accepted them.

"How have things been here during the past days? Have your parents been really angry with you?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "To a degree which only Fred and George have experienced before. But don't you worry about it, I'll survive. I probably shouldn't behave as if nothing had happened, but otherwise I think I'm through with being talked to seriously. And I mean, somehow they're right, but still…" He shrugged helplessly. Harry sat down on the other chair in the room and looked at Ron.

"I shouldn't have asked you to help me. Your parents are right, it's bad enough that I did what I did in the Department of Mysteries, but I shouldn't have pulled you into this as well."

"Yeah, as if I'd have let you go all on your own. If I had to do it again, I wouldn't do anything different, and neither would you."

"Maybe that's our problem", Harry said, and they both lapsed into silence after that. It was Ron who finally broke it.

"They gave you the "You can't keep on risking your life speech" as well, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did", Harry said. "And as you said, in a way they're right. We've done some pretty dangerous things in the past, at times when there might have been other possibilities. Like going after Quirrell on our own, or the thing with the Chamber of Secrets. But the problem is, there always didn't seem to be an alternative that would have worked at the time. And I've been telling Remus and Professor Dumbledore countless times that there was a way to bring Sirius back, they just didn't listen. If I hadn't acted, nobody else would have. I don't exactly enjoy getting into such situations, I don't go around searching for them. It…it just always happens, it's not as if I had any influence on it. But nobody seems to see that."

Ron nodded with a sigh. "Be that as it may, for the remaining holidays they're going to watch what we do like haws. No matter that there is absolutely no reason to worry anymore, after all Sirius is back."

"Yeah, if what they say is true."

Ron frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Of course I believe Remus when he says that Sirius is back. But they just don't allow me to visit him, and I can't understand why."

"Maybe nobody is allowed to visit him. I mean, the Ministry has been waiting for nearly three years to lay their hands on him, he might not be allowed to have visitors until everything is cleared up."

"Dumbledore went to visit him already. And just now I got to know that Remus is visiting him today. When I asked him, he said that Sirius was not allowed to have visitors. Why do they want to keep me away from him?"

"Don't know, mate. But maybe it has a simple explanation and you'll get to see him sooner than you imagine."

Harry couldn't quite believe that. "Maybe", he said doubtfully. But that was another of those many things on which he didn't have any influence. He'd simply have to wait. However, there was still another important matter to consider.

"What about Hermione?"

Ron immediately put down his quill and raised his hands in front of him as if to ward off an attack.

"Don't go there, mate."

"That bad?"

"She's furious", Ron said. "Bloody mad. Seemingly, Snape found her and let her out of the cupboard, that's why he and Professor Lupin were at the Ministry that quickly. After Kingsley brought me here, he went to Hogwarts and fetched Hermione. Man, that was the worst encounter of my entire life. She came banging in here like the devil herself, giving me a lecture which would have made my mother proud. I didn't even get the chance to say anything. And just for the record, she doesn't particularly care that it was you who locked her in the cupboard, we're both guilty of the crime from her point of view."

"Sorry to drag you into this so deeply."

Ron waved him off. "It's not as if you had forced me at wand-point. I could have said no, I could have let Hermione out of the cupboard after you locked her in. I didn't, so I'd say she has a reason why she's angry with both of us. I guess we'll have to wait for an opportunity to set things straight with her."

"Why wait? I had planned on talking to her today."

"Good luck. She left for home the day after she came back from Hogwarts. So unless you want to write her a letter, you'll have to wait until September 1st to see her again. Or maybe the day before that, when we go to Diagon Alley."

"Hermione left?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. I guess she was pretty angry, and after her holiday in France was already cut short, she went home to spend some more time with her family. Ginny went with her, her we're definitely going to meet on August 31st on Diagon Alley to do the shopping for the new school-year."

That indeed crossed all of Harry's plans to at least try to apologise to Hermione. He had guessed that it would not become easy, once her temper had risen Hermione was hard to pacify. And Harry didn't delude himself that her anger would diminish through the remaining two weeks until term at Hogwarts started again. With a sigh he sank down on his bed.

"Well, I definitely won't write her a letter, that wouldn't be a good idea."

"No. Not after locking one of your best friends into a cupboard. That definitely qualifies for a personal conversation."

None of them was looking forward to it, though. But they had done this, and now they would have to bear the consequences. While Ron bent over the parchments and continued his essay with the help of what Harry had written, Harry lay back on his bed, crossed his arms behind his back and looked up at the ceiling, contemplating whether there was anything he could say to Hermione that would make her forgive him easily.

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After delivering Harry to Grimmauld Place, Albus Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts and went directly to his office to prepare for another rather unpleasant appointment he would have the next day – a meeting with Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge had urged for that meeting repeatedly, demanding an explanation from Dumbledore for what had happened in the Department of Mysteries – again. Dumbledore didn't dread that meeting, he knew that Fudge had more pressing problems than what had happened in the Department of Mysteries, but something like the destruction of the archway, the presence of two underage wizards and the return of a man believed dead was still not something he'd just accept without any explanation.

Not that Dumbledore had any problems with giving Fudge an explanation, one that would keep Harry's, Ron's and Severus' role within the frame of legality, but it was a time-consuming process. Nevertheless, Dumbledore needed to prepare, especially since he wanted to use that meeting for his very own purpose.

The more he forced Sirius into the focus of this meeting, the less Fudge would worry about Harry, Ron or Severus. And once the Minister concerned himself with Severus, Albus would call Kingsley to join them. Whenever he had not been on official duty to guard Sirius at the hospital, Kingsley had been digging in the Ministry's archives on Dumbledore's request. He had found not everything Dumbledore had hoped he would, but still enough. And if things went smoothly, then this meeting with Fudge would have two effects – it would even the path to get Sirius' name cleared, and it would finally put another name on top of the list of the Ministry's most wanted criminals. But considering what he had seen in the hospital, Dumbledore wasn't so sure that all this would help Sirius any.

But first things first. He prepared a cup of tea, picked up a roll of parchment Kingsley had copied in the archives and began to read.


	39. Great Expectations

**Chapter 39 – Great Expectations**

Harry didn't meet Remus anymore that day. He and Ron went down for dinner – an unusually silent affair which testified of the still tense mood at headquarters after what had happened a few days past. But Remus was not there for dinner. Either he had already left Grimmauld Place again after his visit to Sirius, or he had not been here at all. Harry caught himself sneaking glances at the kitchen door every other moment, though. His desire to see Sirius, his need to make sure with his own eyes that he was back and well, was only growing with every minute that passed, and he hoped that Remus visiting Sirius meant that his godfather was allowed to have visitors and was well on his way to recovery. Because that would mean Harry could visit him as well, and if that was the case, nothing would hold him back anymore. He'd even find his way to St. Mungo's on his own if he had to. But the door didn't open and Remus didn't appear.

Disappointed, Harry lingered in the kitchen after dinner until it became obvious that Remus would not come down into the kitchen for a late snack. Even if he came home now, he'd probably go directly to his room. Still Harry stayed in the kitchen for a few moments longer, absent-mindedly listening to the conversation between Ron and his two oldest siblings but not really paying attention. At quarter past eleven, Harry gave up waiting for Remus and excused himself to go to bed.

For some reason, sleep did not come easily that night. Harry lay in bed for a long time even after Ron came into the room and went to bed himself, staring up at the ceiling and allowing his mind to drift off. Snape would be having a field day upon seeing how unable Harry was to clear his thoughts, yet there was no possibility that he'd fall asleep anytime soon, so he didn't worry overly much about the possibility of any kind of dreams. After maybe an hour of numbly staring ahead in the darkness, Harry rolled onto his side and looked at the framed photograph of Sirius and himself which he had put onto his nightstand earlier. In the picture, Sirius had sat down in an armchair, holding the sleeping baby-Harry in the crook of his arm. The younger version of Harry's godfather was staring back at Harry, a slight smile showing in the corners of his mouth.

"Why don't they allow me to see you?", Harry whispered, but there was no perceptive reaction from the photograph. Harry sighed and curled up tighter under his blankets. Finally, after what felt like hours of staring at the picture of himself and his godfather, Harry's eyes dropped close and he fell asleep.

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After he had left Severus' office, Remus numbly walked down the corridors and passages in the castle. He was feeling angry at no one in particular, rather about the fact that he was none the wiser after his visit to Severus. If Severus hadn't lied to him – and despite their strained relationship, Remus saw no reason why Severus should have lied to him – then he knew no reason why Sirius was changed now. But if he didn't, then who would? Remus didn't know what Sirius had experienced in the time after he had fallen through the veil, but knowing what he did about the archway and its previous uses, it couldn't have been a good place. But what about that place had changed Sirius? Where was the rest of his friend, if he could say so. Sirius had come back physically, but it seemed that was about it. Only physically.

After endless minutes of brooding, Remus finally halted his steps and looked around to see where he was. On the other hand of the corridor, he could just make out the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Remus couldn't tell whether it was coincidence or whether his steps had unconsciously taken him here, but while he was still deciding whether or not to knock on the headmaster's door and seek advice in sorting through the chaotic mess that were his thoughts, the decision was made for him. Even as he stood undecided in the middle of the corridor, the gargoyle suddenly slid aside and revealed the moving staircase beyond. A moment later, Albus Dumbledore appeared. He stopped as he saw Remus standing in the corridor, then slowly came closer.

"Remus, were you looking for me?"

Remus shook his head, then, as if not quite sure himself, shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know."

Dumbledore thought for a moment, then he took Remus by his arm and guided him over towards the moving staircase.

"Didn't you intend to go somewhere?", Remus asked.

"I intended to visit Severus in his rooms, but that can wait for a little while longer. Why don't we go upstairs and have a cup of tea?"

Remus didn't know whether he actually wanted that, but his thoughts were such a tumbled, confused mess that he was unable to formulate a coherent articulation of what he wished to do, so Dumbledore had already guided him well up the staircase before he managed a nod. The two men went inside Dumbledore's office, and while Remus sat down in an armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk, the headmaster closed the door behind them and poured two cups of tea for them. He sat down so that he was facing Remus and handed one of the cups over to the younger man.

"You seem a little confused, if you don't mind me saying so."

Remus didn't know whether he should laugh or not. "Knowing as you do that I visited Sirius this morning, my confusion should not come as a surprise for you."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "No, it probably shouldn't. I wanted to prepare you for what you should expect, but I was hoping that things would have changed by now. I take it that is not the case?"

"No, it's not."

"Did he react in any way?"

Remus shook his head. "No, he didn't. Not to anything I said or did. Not once. I…I just come from Severus' office. After my visit to Sirius, I thought that he might shed some light onto what happened to him. After all, he was there, he was the one who brought Sirius back. So I asked him if he knew anything."

When Remus didn't continue, Dumbledore rose both his eyebrows inquiringly. "What did Severus tell you?"

"That he doesn't know. He said he doesn't remember anything about bringing Sirius back, and that Necromancy bears the danger of souls not returning entirely."

Dumbledore looked at Remus intensely. "I doubt that there is much we can do about it for now. If the healers knew anything to help his progress, then they would do it."

Remus ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He knew that Dumbledore was right, yet he didn't want to believe it. There had to be something that could be done. There had to be something he could do to help the old Sirius resurface.

"Whatever Sirius experienced, I don't see a way of helping him if nobody knows what caused his state in the first place. And we don't know yet if it's a permanent state", Dumbledore said, as if he was reading Remus' thoughts. Remus thought on this for a moment, then he looked up at Dumbledore.

"He was the same when you visited him?"

"From what you tell, exactly the same, yes."

"We can't let Harry visit him like this", Remus said, his face turning ashen at the thought of how devastated the teenager would be if he saw Sirius as unresponsive as Remus had seen him earlier.

"I imagine that he has set his hopes in Sirius' return very high."

"That he has. And the problem is that he won't just accept it if I tell him that he can't visit Sirius. He's desperate to see him again, it was hard enough to explain him that he couldn't visit Sirius when he woke up. He won't put up with that for much longer."

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Assuming that Sirius condition is permanent, Harry has to get to know about it sooner or later. And if Sirius' condition isn't permanent, meeting Harry might trigger something in him."

"So you'd let him visit Sirius?"

"I don't know how he'd take it, Remus. Meeting Sirius in such a state will certainly be hard on him. The problem is that we don't know when, if at all, Sirius' condition changes for the better. However, I do certainly not suggest to let him walk into Sirius' hospital room totally unprepared. On the contrary."

Remus leaned back in his chair and stared to of the window for a couple of moments.

"I will take some more time before I'll return to Grimmauld Place, there is too much going through my head at the moment. But tomorrow at the latest I'll see him again. I'll see if I find a good way of telling him what my visit was like. He'll want to see Sirius no matter what, but I'll do my best to prepare him." He looked up at Dumbledore. "Would the Ministry allow Harry to visit Sirius at all? I don't particularly like the idea, but if the Ministry denied Harry the right to visit him, we would have some more time to find out what happened to Sirius and whether and how it can be changed. I don't like hiding the truth from Harry, but it might be better than to devastate him."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Sirius' legal status is that of a Ministry prisoner in hospital. It's not impossible to get visitation permission for him, especially because of the doubts about his guilt which have surfaced right now. Seemingly, the Minister has finally heeded the words on his innocence after he had to admit Voldemort's return. And after I drew his attention to the fact that Sirius never had a trial to begin with. As long as the visit is announced at the Ministry, I guess that Harry would be allowed to visit Sirius. I announced your visit to Sirius the evening before you came to the hospital, and it was no problem at all."

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "So we'd be lying if we told Harry that he can't visit Sirius, and I won't lie to him about it. I'll tell him what I know."

"Considering that Harry will want to hear an explanation for what is happening, that might be the best solution. Do you want me to be there when you tell him?"

Remus thought for a moment, then he shook his head. "No, I think it will be better if I tell him alone."

Dumbledore nodded, absent-mindedly running his hand thought his long, white beard. "I have a meeting with Minister Fudge about Sirius tomorrow morning."

"What about?"

"His legal status, mostly. I have the feeling that the Minister suspects that I knew where Sirius was all the time and that I've hidden that information from him. After Sirius fell through the veil, he kept on asking me where Sirius came from, but as to not compromise the Order I couldn't tell him, which somehow made the explanation for his presence in the Department of Mysteries that night somewhat…sketchy. But now he seemingly made the connection as to why I was telling him more than once to have a look into the old files because I thought Sirius was innocent. He always pushed those concerns of mine aside, and if he already wants to talk about Sirius, then we will talk about everything that happened."

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I asked Kingsley to dig up whatever was left of the old records from Sirius' arrest. He spent the past two days in the archives whenever he was not on duty, and from what I gather it was not exactly easy. Everybody knew about Sirius' arrest and his sentence at Azkaban, but the official files were classified."

Remus nodded. "Because he never got a trial, and that's against the law."

"Exactly. And I want to confront Cornelius with it in a manner so that he cannot close his eyes to what happened back then."

Suddenly, Remus understood. "You want him to release Sirius."

Dumbledore nodded. "That is exactly what I want. I know that he cannot declare Sirius innocent and set him free as easily as Sirius was declared guilty all those years ago, but once the healers release him from St. Mungo's, I don't want him to be under Ministry arrest."

"Or back in Azkaban."

"Or back in Azkaban. Though the Dementors have left the prison."

Remus shook his head emphatically. "That doesn't matter, Albus. If there is any chance, Sirius should not return to this place ever, if possible."

Dumbledore just looked at Remus for a long moment, and Remus thought that he knew what the old wizard was thinking about. He knew that Sirius had not talked to anybody about his experiences in Azkaban. Not to anybody but Remus. He didn't know much of what his friend had gone through during his imprisonment, but the little that Sirius had told him was enough to be sure that returning to Azkaban would not be good for him. Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence.

"As I said, I know that Cornelius cannot simply set him free. But I want him to give Sirius a trial, and I want him to release him from Ministry arrest. And in the light of the illegality of everything that surrounds Sirius' arrest, I will press Cornelius to set the trial as soon as possible. Until everything is officially cleared, they will probably put Sirius under house-arrest, that cannot be prevented, but it's better than locking him up in prison."

Remus wasn't so sure about that. Sirius had been under 'house-arrest' at Grimmauld Place for an entire year, and it had not done him good. It had been a prison for Sirius, one he had not dealt with well. But he hoped that this would be different if Sirius knew that it was only a temporary solution until his trial. He hoped it was. If it mattered at all. In his momentary state, Remus doubted that Sirius would be able to tell the difference between St. Mungo's and Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore's voice interrupted him before he could think more intensely about it.

"And I want Cornelius to finally issue a search warrant for Peter Pettigrew."

"Do you think he will believe you that Peter is still alive? We don't have any proof for it, only witnesses."

Dumbledore sighed. "I hope he will. I have our people at the Ministry look out for any sign of him already, but it would be so much more effective if all the forces would be ordered to keep an eye out for him. So I will tell Cornelius that we have not only one but a couple of witnesses who saw him alive, and I hope that will finally be enough for him. If not, I will ask him to question Harry about it."

"I don't like Harry being in the focus of the Minister's attention."

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side and watched Remus intensely. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that he has done nothing but scrape at Harry's reputation while it was convenient for him last year. He used Harry to avoid the admission that Voldemort is back, because he didn't _want_ it to be true. He used Harry for his own purpose, though it doesn't take a genius to understand that it must be hard for a fifteen year old to be all but publicly declared a nutcase. And now that he can no longer deny it, Harry suddenly is everybody's golden boy again, and again Fudge is using him for his purpose. It's an open secret that most of what is printed in the _Daily Prophet_ reflects the Minister's current mood and opinion. I for one would be more at ease if Fudge left Harry entirely alone, impossible as that may seem. I'm worried that there will come another time when it'll be convenient for him to publicly denounce Harry again. There are too many people he listens to who might have an interest in seeing Harry publicly denounced or worse."

He didn't need to speak out loud what he meant. The entire Order had been in an uproar when Lucius Malfoy had been released from Azkaban barely a week into the summer holidays. The investigations against him had not been conducted in a manner that would have satisfied those people who knew about his involvement with the Death Eaters, but there had been nothing Kingsley or even Moody had been able to do against it. Lucius Malfoy had good lawyers, and – even more importantly – he had much influence at the Ministry, going up to the top ranks and Minister Fudge himself. If the Minister knew that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, he turned a blind eye on it. But the Order guessed that he simply didn't want to know and had seen it as their own task to watch the man. The problem was that Lucius Malfoy was not stupid. He knew that his arrest had put him into a bad light, and he knew that Dumbledore would have an eye out on him because he was not so easily influenced than Malfoy's Ministry associates. The Order was tailing Lucius Malfoy nearly without interruption, but as Snape had said during one of their meetings, the man was far too clever to make an obvious mistake.

Dumbledore nodded. "I am convinced that it won't be necessary to involve Harry into anything. The Minister has enough on his hands already, he'll opt for a quick and safe solution so that he can get back to the really urgent issues."

"And while you are already there, you'll be trying to press him for information."

"I'm still worried about those two attacks, more than I can tell. They just don't make sense, so I need to find out if Cornelius knows more about it than we could gather so far."

"There will be a meeting tomorrow night?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, there will be. I hope I'll have some information to share until then."

Remus rose from his chair, glad that the conversation with Dumbledore had taken his mind off of Sirius and what had happened this morning. He felt more like himself now, at least more ready to think about what all this meant.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening then. Thank you for the tea, Albus."

"You're welcome, Remus. Until tomorrow."

Remus turned and left the office.

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When Harry woke up the next morning, he felt as if he had barely slept at all. His sleep had been anything but restful, there had been too many strange nightmares. Now his head was aching slightly, and solely the idea of getting up made him come to the conclusion that this was not one of the better days. After a minute or two of silent contemplation whether it would be worth it to crawl out of bed, Harry decided that he'd have to get up sooner or later, anyway, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up.

Ron was no longer lying in bed, but judged by the fact that it was only quarter past eight, he couldn't have been awake for long. Tiredly, Harry shuffled over into the bathroom, washed up and brushed his teeth, then he got dressed and went downstairs into the kitchen for breakfast. As Harry had predicted, Ron was already downstairs, sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of breakfast in front of him. Nobody else was to be seen, not even Mrs. Weasley. Harry went over towards the stove, filled a plate with porridge, fetched himself a cup of tea and sat down at the table.

"'Morning Ron."

Ron looked up from the _Daily Prophet's_ sport section. "Good morning."

"Anything interesting in the paper?"  
Ron shrugged. "The _Canons_ have sold their best Chaser to an Italian team."

Harry had not been talking about sports, he thought that Ron should know that. But his friend only pushed the remaining parts of the paper towards Harry.

"That is really the most interesting piece of news in the whole paper. The rest is only rubbish. Nothing happened, if that's what you wanted to know. And at least the paper doesn't seem to know that anything at all happened in the Ministry as of late."

Harry pulled the paper over towards himself and started leafing through the pages. Ron was right, there was nothing. The front page was taken up by a lead article about the leader of the Ministry's head of Department of Foreign Affairs starting a three-day journey to visit his colleagues in France and Spain, and inside the paper there wasn't anything of interest, either. The Goblin's Union complaining about the receding productivity of the British markets, a report about the upcoming Scottish Warlock Fair, a smaller article about a Ministry conference concerning a tax reform. Ron was absolutely right, the _Canons_ selling their Chaser was the most interesting article in here. Harry didn't quite know what to think about it. Of course he was glad that what he had done in the Department of Mysteries had not become public knowledge, and of course he was glad that Voldemort and the Death Eaters had not murdered anybody else, but with every day that passed without any news from Voldemort, he found himself feeling a bit more edgy.

"Where's your Mum?"

Ron looked up from his paper and shrugged. "Off to Diagon Alley, it's the weekly shopping-for-headquarters day. She should be back around lunch."

Harry nodded and finished his own breakfast. He had his own plans for today, or rather one very specific plan. Find Remus, ask him why he had lied about visiting Sirius, demand to see Sirius. If he didn't find Remus, he'd have to find somebody else who'd bring him to St. Mungo's. But he would see his godfather today, that was his resolve. He had enough of sitting around and waiting.

"Do you know if Remus has come back last night?"

Ron, who was just about to get up and put his dirty dishes into the sink, stopped and shook his head.

"No. I haven't seen him this morning, but I only came down maybe fifteen minutes before you did. Why do you ask?"

"Because I know that he visited Sirius yesterday, and I want him to take me to St. Mungo's."

"Well, good luck for that. I'm going upstairs to finish those stupid holiday assignments. Really, why they give us homework for the holidays is beyond me, especially since we still haven't received our O.W.L. results."

Ron continued to grumble a little about the amount of work that was demanded from them during the holidays, then he went upstairs to finish his essays. Harry knew that Ron wouldn't have such a hard time. He had nearly finished all of his essays, and only yesterday Harry had given Ron his own essays for comparison. But he could sympathise with what Ron was feeling, writing those essays was a chore, no matter how little researches he'd have to conduct. He fetched himself another cup of tea and settled to wait for Remus, starting to read all the articles in the _Daily Prophet_, even the boring ones.

An hour later, Harry knew everything about the attractions at the Warlock's fair in Scotland and the economic decline of certain market branches which worried the goblins deeply. That the Canons had sold their Chaser wasn't a good idea in his opinion, either, but it wasn't the focus of his interest this morning. However, before he started to read the horoscopes in his desperation to pass the time, the door to the kitchen opened and Remus came into the room. Harry had to admit in Remus' favour that his former teacher didn't seem to have gotten all that much sleep last night, so he probably hadn't snuck into the house while Harry had still been waiting for him. But still, Harry felt angry at him for lying about visiting Sirius.

Remus looked at Harry for a short moment, with an expression that somehow seemed not all that happy to find him here in the kitchen, and alone, then he went to fetch himself a cup of tea.

"Good morning, Harry", he said as he sat down at the other side of the table so that he was facing the teenager.

"Good morning", Harry said and couldn't stop his voice from turning sharp. "Had a good day yesterday?"

Remus drank a deep sip of tea, then he put down his cup and looked at Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you visited Sirius yesterday, without telling me about it. I didn't even know that he was awake again. All I was told was that he wasn't even allowed to have visitors, awake or not, and quite obviously that hasn't been the truth!"

Remus nodded. "I see. I can understand that you're angry."

"I'm fed up with people understanding what I feel! Just for once, I want to be told things that concern me, not any expressions of compassion for my hurt feelings afterwards!"

"I'm sorry, Harry. Will you let me explain?"

Harry shrugged angrily. "I'm used to explanations afterwards, so why not."

Remus leaned back in his chair and waited for a beat, searching for the right words.

"Albus told me yesterday morning that Sirius has woken up, and that he is allowed to have visitors. My first suggestion was that the two of us visit Sirius together before returning to Grimmauld Place."

"Then why didn't you come and fetch me?", Harry asked.

"Two reasons. The first reason was bureaucratic in its nature. Sirius is still a Ministry prisoner, and while I gather that Minister Fudge finally starts listening to what he is told about Sirius' innocence, the Ministry still needs to be notified about the visits beforehand. And Albus only announced my visit to him."

Harry's face turned angry. "Why did he do that? He should be able to imagine that I want to see him."

"That is the second reason I've talked about, and that is something which will be harder for you to understand. Albus visited Sirius the day before yesterday, and I visited him yesterday. Before I went to St. Mungo's, he warned me and said hat Sirius' condition was not good."

"What do you mean?"

"That is what I asked him, but he didn't want to tell me anything specific. He hoped that it was only a temporary condition. When I visited Sirius, I learned that unfortunately Albus was not wrong, and in the end I was glad that you didn't come with me straight away."

"What is wrong with Sirius?", Harry interrupted yet again, growing more and more impatient. "You said that he was all right, didn't you?"

"I said that he was physically all right, and that was not a lie. It's not a physical problem. This might be hard on you, but I'll just tell you straight away, without beating about the bush. Sirius is awake, but he's unresponsive."

"What does that mean?"

"That he doesn't react to anything. Physically, yes. But while he appears to be awake, he just stares emptily ahead. He doesn't talk, doesn't react when he's spoken to, doesn't react to any kind of physical approach. He's just…not there, only physically, but it seems as if his mind isn't there. The healers are not yet sure whether this is a temporary condition or not, but right now nobody can say for sure."

Harry looked thunderstruck for a long moment, then he shook his head.

"No, no, that can't be right."

"I'm sorry, but it is."

Harry shook his head again. "You have to be wrong. I'm sure you've just misunderstood something. Maybe he was still confused, or they had given him some medication that made him drowsy, but I'm sure that Sirius will be all right."  
Remus leaned forward and looked at Harry intensely. "Merlin knows I hope that's the case. But I'm telling you this because I want you to be prepared in case that it isn't just confusion. It was Necromancy that brought him back, and Severus said that it's possible that this change was caused by the rite. And even if it's not, he has been caught in a place where no living human being was supposed to be, for over two months. Whatever the reason, Sirius has changed, either temporarily or permanently. And I wanted you to know that before you go and visit him, because it's possible that he won't react to seeing you, either."

Harry shook his head again. "Maybe the healers were wrong, and he's still partly unconscious or something. There has to be a sensible explanation for all this."

Remus sighed deeply. "Don't get your hopes up too high, Harry. Please."

"I want to see him."

"I thought as much."

"Yeah, right. That is why I had to wait for over two days before I get the chance to."

"Harry, nobody did anything to keep you away from Sirius. Before yesterday, I didn't know anything about his condition either, and after I saw him I wanted to prepare you first. I just didn't want you to visit him only to be horribly disappointed, that is why I told you this. I went to the Ministry before I returned last night, to tell Kingsley to arrange that you can meet Sirius today. But please keep in mind what I told you."

Harry didn't even seem to hear him. "When do we leave?"

Remus checked his watch. "Kingsley is on duty since ten, he'd have called already if the Ministry had any objections against your visit. So I think we can leave as soon as you're ready. Just keep in mind what I just told you."

But Harry had jumped up from his chair so quickly that Remus was sure that Harry didn't waste one conscious thought on Remus' warning about Sirius' condition. He couldn't change that, though, so he'd just have to come along and see how things would develop.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus knew that Harry was deluding himself, but he also knew that there was nothing he could do to stop that at the moment. He had told Harry what he knew about Sirius' condition, had told him about the absolute lack of reaction upon his visit the day before, but still Harry was convinced deep down inside that it would all be different when he came to visit him. Remus would have liked to spare the teenager this probably devastating experience, but he knew that Harry would not believe what he had been told until he saw it with his own eyes. So the least - actually, the only thing - he could do was come with him when it happened.

After they had come out of the fireplace at St. Mungo's, Remus had noticed that Harry grew more nervous by the minute. The teenager was fidgeting uneasily, again and again wiping his palms against his trouser legs. Remus himself had a feeling of dread rising in his stomach which only increased the closer they came to the corridor where Sirius' room was located. As they turned around the last corner, he saw Kingsley sitting in front of Sirius' room just like he had done the day before when Remus had visited Sirius for the first time. There was another Auror with him, a different one than the day before.

Remus had told Harry not to let show that he knew Kingsley Shacklebolt, and he was glad to see that Harry seemed to remember it. He gave no indication that he had met Kingsley before as they stepped up to the desk and stopped. Kingsley and the other Auror looked up at them. This time, Kingsley picked up his clipboard before he asked Remus anything.

"That would be Remus J. Lupin and Harry J. Potter to visit Mr. Black?", he asked. Remus nodded, and Kingsley opened the book in front of him and pointed at a certain column.

"Sign in here, then please hand over your wands. Auror Jennings will have to search you for concealed weapons. You have fifteen minutes, and I have to inform you that any attempt to help the Ministry prisoner escape will lead to serious repercussions. As will any attempt to enable contact between Mr. Black and anybody outside this hospital ward. Should any problems with the prisoner arise, call us in immediately. Any questions?"

"No", Remus answered for them while Harry finished signing in. This time, Kingsley's warning sounded ironic to him. Of course he knew that it was a standard legal admonition, yet the part about enabling Sirius to contact somebody outside the hospital was, given his current state, more than highly ironic. Jennings performed a quick but thorough search for any concealed weapons or other things they might be trying to smuggle into Sirius' room, then Kingsley guided them over towards the door. He didn't say anything, but positioning himself between Harry and his colleague so that Jennings could not see, he squeezed Harry's shoulder once in encouragement as he opened the door to Sirius' room for them. Harry breathed in deeply, then he and Remus entered the room. Both didn't even notice that Kingsley closed the door behind them, Harry because he was so excited that he was finally going to meet his godfather again, and Remus because he was dreading that the visit would devastate the teenager.

There was a slight hesitancy in Harry's steps as he entered the room, but it vanished after a few seconds and after drawing a deep breath, Harry quickly stepped up to the bed at the other end of the room. Quietly, Remus followed Harry into Sirius' ward.

Just like the day before, Sirius was lying in bed, arms lying at his sides, blanket drawn up to cover his chest. Both chest and blanket were rising and falling slowly in time with his breaths, but that was about all the movement that was coming from him. His blue eyes were open, blinking occasionally, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling. Just like the day before, Sirius' gaze was unfocussed and he gave no sign that he had noticed Remus' and Harry's presence in the room.

Harry quickly walked up to the bed, only slowing down when he stood directly next to his godfather.

"Sirius", he said, in a tone of voice one would use when waking somebody from sleep. Remus noticed that Harry's voice was shaking slightly from nervousness, and as he received no answer, his hands balled into tight fists at his side.

"Sirius", Harry said again, louder this time, and sat down on the edge of the mattress. He picked up Sirius' hand and squeezed it tightly, but again he received no reaction. Remus kept himself in the background, trying not to disturb Harry's moment with his godfather. Maybe, maybe there was the slight chance that Harry's presence might trigger something in Sirius and bring him closer to awareness, though Remus had serious doubts about that. He watched how Harry continued to talk to Sirius, though he didn't pay any real mind to what it was that Harry was saying. Not because he was not interested, but because he wanted to give Harry at least a sense of privacy without leaving him completely alone.

As Remus had feared, nothing about Harry's presence helped to change even the slightest thing about Sirius' condition, not even as Harry's pleading grew more and more desperate. Slowly, Remus stepped up behind Harry and put his hands on the teenager's shoulders. The muscles there were as taut as bowstrings, he was breathing harshly, and as he turned to look at Remus, there were tears running down his cheeks. Remus squeezed Harry's shoulders again.

"Let's head back, Kingsley is surely going to call us out any moment."

Harry nodded numbly, and as Remus let go off his shoulders and turned towards the door, he bent down and hugged Sirius tightly. He hadn't expected otherwise, but Sirius made no move to wrap his arms around him and hug him back. Harry took another moment to calm himself, wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, then he got up and followed Remus towards the door and out. Once they were out in the corridor and the door was closed behind them, Remus wordlessly guided Harry over to the desk where Kingsley sat, signed them out of the visitor's book, took their wands back and led them down the corridor and out of sight of Kingsley and the other Auror. As soon as they had turned around the corner, he wordlessly turned Harry around and pulled him tightly against himself. Harry was crying, Remus felt how his shoulders shook against his hold, but he didn't say anything about it. He merely allowed the teenager to cry on his shoulder and did his best to comfort him.

"Do you think it was a mistake?", Harry asked after a long while. Remus rubbed across his back in what he hoped it was a comforting way.

"Even if it was, we could not change it anymore. But no, I don't think it was a mistake. And not because it saved my life in the end."

Harry shook his head and pulled back slightly from the embrace.

"But it was selfish. I did it because I wanted him back, and I didn't care about the consequences. I didn't think what that could mean for him. I thought he'd come back just the way he was before, and now everything is just so wrong."

Remus looked at Harry for a moment, then he took him by the hand and led him down the corridor towards the staircase. Only when they had reached the nearly empty cafeteria on the top floor and Remus had fetched them two cups of strong tea did he break the silence.

"All right, I think there are a few things we need to talk about."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just…when I woke up and was told that it had worked, that we had really brought Sirius back, I thought everything was all right. I thought that I had done the right thing. But now I simply don't know anymore. I was selfish, and in the end the results are worse for everybody."

Remus nodded.

"All right, I see your point. When I first got to know that you had gone to the Ministry, I was as angry with you as I've ever been. Angry because what you did was plain stupid."

Harry looked away and bit his lip, but Remus reached for his chin and gently turned him around again.

"Listen to me. It _was_ stupid. You endangered yourself, fully well knowing that you simply didn't have the abilities to do what you set out to do. You could have killed yourself. That is what I meant with stupid. But more important than being stupid, it was also an act of utmost devotion, and you showed a degree of care and love which I haven't seen in many people before. Even when everybody gave him up, including me, you didn't. Because you believed that it was good to bring Sirius back. That it was right and necessary. And it was good and necessary to bring him back."

Harry looked unbelieving. "What is supposed to be good or necessary about bringing him back like this?"

"Bringing him back. Period. Like you, Sirius has a long history of people not doing enough for him. Me included. He had earned it that that somebody finally went lengths to do something for him."

"Damn lot of good it did."

"Don't give up on him already, it's too early to do that."

"And if his condition doesn't change?"

Remus sighed deeply. "Then we'll at least have the chance to say goodbye to him. But that is something for when nobody sees a chance for him to recover anymore. And believe me that I have no intention of letting it come to that. If there's a way to help Sirius, I'll find it. I won't give him up one more time."

Harry silently and sipped his tea. There were still tears in his eyes, threateningly close to spilling over, but Remus would not have minded if Harry had started sobbing now. Merlin knew he could relate to what the teenager was feeling.

"I just want him back, Remus. He's all the family I have, aside from my aunt and uncle. But he's the family I _want_. And I was so happy to have him back, I thought that I finally had a chance to have everything I dreamt of."

Remus shifted his chair closer to Harry and wrapped an arm around the teenager's slim shoulders.

"I'll do anything I can to help you get him back. Anything."

Harry gulped the last of his tea and shrugged again.

"Let's head back to Grimmauld Place", Remus suggested. "I'm getting hungry, and hospital food is not exactly what I had in mind."

"Sure", was Harry's court answer. They cleared their cups away and walked down the stairs until they had reached the lobby from which they could floo back. As they came out of the fireplace in the still empty basement kitchen, Remus vanished the soot from their robes with a wave of his wand and for a moment they simply looked at each other, not really knowing what to say. In the end Remus made a step forward and wrapped his arms around Harry again.

"It's hard now, I know that. But I'm here for you, okay? If there's anything you need, anything you want to talk about, you can always come to me."

Harry didn't say anything, he simply hugged Remus tightly for a long moment. When he withdrew, he still looked slightly shaky and teary. Remus smiled at him.

"All right, as I don't see Molly anywhere around, how about I see what I can do to produce something edible? I can't match her skills at cooking, but I'm fairly sure I won't give us a case of food-poisoning."

Harry smiled shakily and nodded.

"Sounds good."

"Nah, don't think I'll let you get off so easily. I hereby promote you to _chief-chopper_ and _fetcher of things from the pantry_. If we already start to cook, we can as well make enough for everybody and relieve Molly for lunch. Why don't you start with the potatoes while I go and see what else we have?"

Harry nodded and stepped up to the counter. "Sure." He pulled a knife from one of the drawers and fetched the basket with potatoes from the pantry while Remus went in search of the other ingredients. If anything, Remus hoped that this would help to distract Harry from what had happened this morning.


	40. Less Than Ordinary

**Chapter 40 – Less Than Ordinary**

Cooking proved to be a distraction for Harry, though not the kind of distraction Remus had hoped it would be. It was painfully obvious that the teenager could not entirely tear his thoughts away from his earlier encounter with Sirius, and worst of all was that there was no way Remus could think of to help Harry. Until Sirius came around – if he'd ever come around again – this would keep on hurting Harry. So Remus was not overly surprised when Harry excused himself directly after dinner and retreated to his room. Ron stayed behind in the kitchen to play chess with his brother Bill, and as Remus knew for a fact that Harry had already finished his summer assignments, he was pretty sure that the teenager was brooding about Sirius again.

When Harry didn't turn up again after more than two hours, Remus prepared tow cups of tea and carried them up the stairs. He knocked on Harry's room, and, upon Harry's muffled voice biding him to come in, opened the door and entered the room. Harry was sitting on his bed holding a book, but Remus doubted that Harry had been reading in it for long. He also saw the framed picture he had given Harry for his birthday lying on the bed and not standing on the nightstand as it had always done. Remus kicked the door shut with his foot and balanced the cups over towards the bedside table. Wordlessly, he pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed. Harry looked up from his book at Remus, pretending to have been focussed on his reading, but as Remus had experienced a number of times before, Harry was not a good liar. Remus smiled at Harry and handed him one of the cups.

"I so much want to tell you not to work yourself up about Sirius' condition, but I know it's far more difficult than it sounds."

Harry sighed and nodded. "Tell me about it."

"Why don't you come down and at least try to distract yourself. Bill is playing chess with Ron, and it's pretty gruesome. No holds barred. Should get even more interesting now."

Harry smiled slightly, but shook his head at the same time. "I'm not particularly up for company", he said.

"Shall I leave you alone?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just can't help brooding about it all. Why does this have to happen, can you tell me that? Nothing in my bloody life ever keeps working out. Why can't I just have it easy for once?"

Remus left his chair and instead sat down on the mattress beside Harry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Harry sighed, but after a brief moment of hesitation Remus felt him lean against his side. He tightened his arm around Harry and squeezed his shoulder.

"Don't give up on him already. Somehow, we'll find a way to bring him fully back."

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head. "I don't know if there's anything you or anybody else can do about that."

He leaned forward and began massaging his temples. Remus squeezed his shoulder again.

"Tired?"

"Headache. I didn't sleep overly well last night. Actually, I didn't sleep overly well in the hospital, either."

Remus frowned. "Any specific reason?"

"Don't know. Nightmares, but not really."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not like the nightmares I had about Sirius. It weren't even nightmares, it was more…well, like un-restful sleep, as if there was something keeping me from sleeping. There was no real dream, just the feeling that there were hundreds of…_things_ keeping me from resting." Looking up and seeing Remus' worried expression, Harry quickly shook his head. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just nightmares. A lot has happened, after all."

"Don't play this down, Harry. After what you did, I'd think it wise to pay a close attention to everything that has changed. Did you talk to your healers about this?"

Harry shook his head. Remus squeezed his shoulder.

"You have those nightmares every night?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "It's hard to tell. As I said, it's not really nightmares. It's more like not sleeping well. Waking up in the night, feeling cold, heart beating fast, not really knowing what it was that made me wake up."

"Every night?", Remus gently prodded.

Hesitantly, Harry nodded. "Yes, I think so." He looked up at Remus. "But I really don't think it's of any significance."

"Considering what you have done, I wouldn't just shrug it off as nothing."

"Because of what I did in the Department of Mysteries."

Remus nodded. "Yes. You opened a portal to the world of the dead, that is not an everyday occurrence. Worse, you tried to pass through that portal. It's possible that it left marks, and that that's what you're experiencing now."

"Is there any way to find out? To make it go away?"

Remus sighed and squeezed Harry's shoulder again. "I don't know. But that's something that can be found out. How about I'll ask Madam Pomfrey to come over tomorrow, maybe she has an explanation. If not, we'll have to see if we find another healer who might have an explanation."

Harry nodded numbly. "All right."

"You're sure you don't want to come down again? I don't know how good it'll do you if you keep brooding."

Harry shrugged. "To be honest, I don't really know what I want. I want Sirius back, that's all."

Remus wordlessly drew Harry close and held him against his side. "We'll get there, I promise you. We'll get there."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Promises were not always easy to keep, Remus knew that. And while he knew that his promise to do whatever he could to bring the old Sirius back would not be one of the easy ones, he had not imagined it to become so difficult. During the next twenty four hours, nothing about Sirius' condition changed. Harry went to visit his godfather the following afternoon, a visit Kingsley had arranged for him upon Harry's request during dinner. Arthur and Tonks agreed to take him there, so Remus used the entire morning and afternoon to research what could have happened to Sirius in the Hogwarts library.

Not that he found overly much. Recounts of attempts to bring back a dead person with means of Necromancy were not hard to find. What was hard to find were successful attempts to resurrect somebody as well as ways to remedy problems that could appear due to such an attempt. Now, Remus was what most people called a bookworm. He felt at home in libraries, in the world where all the knowledge one could want was to be found between the pages of dusty old volumes, small leaflets and tomes that were so new that they still smelled of ink. He was no stranger to library systems, cross-references, title-scanning or fabricating bibliographies. But in Sirius' case, he seemed to be reaching the end of his wisdom. No matter where he looked, no matter what reference works he used or what kind of book he looked into, he didn't seem to get closer to any answer. He had no idea what kind of answer he was searching for, anyway. He wouldn't mind finding a book titled _50 Easy Way__ to Bring Back the Soul of Your Best Friend_, but he knew that it was very unlikely he'd find it. Probably about as likely as Severus finally picking up that career as a comedian Remus had once joked about. But still, a man could hope. Not for Snape entering the stage, for an easy way to help Sirius.

In the evening, he left the library hungry, thirsty, with a headache and not in the best of moods. He was too late for dinner, but Molly immediately offered him upon his arrival in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place to warm up some leftovers. Remus normally wasn't someone to let the others jump at his will when he came too late to eat with the others, but today he just nodded gratefully and sank down in the nearest chair. Tonks, who had been sitting a bit farther down the table slid closer and smiled at Remus.

"Had a hard day?"

Remus sighed. "Frustrating is the better word. I've spent all day searching for a possible explanation for what is going on with Sirius."

"No luck?"

Remus shook his head. "None at all. I've tried every possible angle I could think of, but nothing has brought me any further so far. Absolutely nothing."

Tonks summoned her cup of tea from where she had been sitting earlier, nearly spilled all of it across the tabletop as she missed the sliding cup and saucer on the first attempt at catching it. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she grinned lopsidedly, then she took a deep sip.

"Maybe there is no academic way of treating this."

Remus smiled thankfully at Molly as she put a plate filled with dinner in front of him. He picked up his fork, but didn't start eating. Instead, he gave Tonks' remark some thought.

"I must say I thought about that as well. After all, how many precedents can there be for a case like Sirius'? Necromancy has been illegal for quite many years now, and even before it was banned by law, it was shunned and nothing people talked about openly. Much less wrote about. And even if there were, Sirius' case is so unique that even thinking there could be a similar case that could help in healing him is madness. But still I can't just let go off the thought that there is an explanation somewhere, not after just one day of searching."

Tonks nodded. "I know. Don't get me wrong, I most certainly have no intention of talking you out of researches. If anybody can find out what's going on with Sirius, I trust it's you. But there might be the possibility that if anything, we'll have to think up an own way of bringing him back. If that's possible."

Remus nodded slowly, eating a bite off his fork without really tasting what it was. Somehow, his appetite was gone all of a sudden.

"I take it nothing has changed about Sirius' condition?"

Tonks shook her head. "No, nothing. Well, we didn't get to talk to any of his healers, but he was exactly the way you described he was. Just staring ahead, reacting to nothing."

Tonks' eyes misted over as she was recalling the visit to Sirius. Remus knew that she was not taking what had happened to him lightly. She might not have been close to Sirius before the last year, but during those past twelve months she and Sirius had grown close enough for her to feel the loss, painfully so. After Remus had recovered from the transformation directly after Sirius' death, Tonks had asked him to help her sort through Sirius' belongings. One reason had been the search for Sirius' will – which they had not found – but foremost it had been both, her attempt at remembering him while at the same time coming to terms with his abrupt death. An attempt which she had not dared to undertake alone, and though Remus had not felt quite ready to do this, he had agreed to do this together with her. It had been very hard two hours on both of them, but Remus had had the feeling that his presence had helped Tonks during those hours. Though it hadn't kept her from sobbing into Remus' shoulder for some long minutes after they had sealed the last box up again. She had been extremely happy to hear that Sirius had been brought back, and Remus knew that this situation of uncertainty was nagging at her.

Tonks bit her lip and pressed the heel of her hand against first one eye, then the other, as if to stave back tears. Remus reached across the table and squeezed her other hand tightly. A faint pink blush rose to Tonks' cheeks, and Remus quickly withdrew his hand again.  
"How's Harry?"

Tonks sighed and drained the last of her tea. "Not good. He was putting up a brave front, but to everybody who is not made of stone it was obvious how much this was bothering him. During our entire visit, he kept on talking to Sirius, as if he was hoping that he'd wake up any moment now. When we were told that our time was up, it was hard to tear him away from Sirius' bedside."

"I'll look after him before the meeting starts. He's in his room?"

"I guess. He left upstairs quickly before we arrived, so I assume he went into his room."

Remus nodded and quickly finished eating as much as he could get down without feeling sick. Molly had loaded far more than he could eat onto his plate, as usual. She cast him a slightly disapproving glare as he put the half-empty plate into the sink, but he ignored her. Why everyone saw the need to fatten him up was beyond him. All right, so he had been through some rough times, but that didn't leave him entirely fragile. Without saying another word, he went out of the kitchen, climbed up the stairs and went to seek out Harry.

The teenager was indeed in his room. He answered upon Remus' first knock, and when Remus entered the room he found the teenager sitting on his bed, again with a book in his hand which Remus didn't believe he had been reading. Though this time the framed photograph of Sirius and Harry was still standing in its usual spot on the bedside table. Remus closed the door and sat down on the chair beside the bed.

"Hey."  
Harry closed the book and put it down on the bed. "Hey."

"Are you all right?"

Harry shrugged. "As much as I can be."

"How was the visit to Sirius?"

Another shrug. "Same as yesterday." He shook his head as if to force the dark thoughts away. "What about you? Found anything you were searching for?"  
Remus shook his head. "Not really. It appears difficult to impossible to find any cases that are comparable to what happened to Sirius. At least not in the Hogwarts library. There are some other libraries and archives I think are worth looking into, I'll know whether that was worth a shot by tomorrow evening."

"I asked Mr. Weasley to arrange that I can visit Sirius again tomorrow. Bill said he'd take me there, because Mr. Weasley has to go to work and can't take me. Do you want to come along?"

Remus wanted nothing more than to visit Sirius. The problem was, he wanted to visit _Sirius_, not the empty shell he had seen in St. Mungo's twice. The next time he visited Sirius, he wanted to have at least an idea of how he wanted to bring him fully back.

"No, I'd rather see what I can find in the libraries tomorrow. I'll come along the next time." He paused for a moment, thought, then decided to ask the question. "How are you feeling about those visits?"

Harry shrugged again. "Of course I'd rather visit him while he was awake. Or have him back, at home, wherever that is. But at least I can make sure that it's real, that he's back when I go visit him. And I keep hoping that he wakes up."

Remus smiled and squeezed Harry's shoulder once, tightly. "Hold on to that thought, Harry. It's a good one."

Harry nodded shakily, and Remus got up from his chair.

"I can only repeat myself. If there is anything you want to talk about, I'll be there to listen. Anytime."

"I know, thank you."

Remus smiled again, then he turned around and left the room.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

By the time Remus came back down into the kitchen, the room had already filled with people. Not everybody was there yet, as far as he could see, but a couple of faces which were not seen daily at Grimmauld Place were already there. Remus entered the room and went over to the kitchen table where he sat down in a chair next to Minerva McGonagall.

"Minerva, good to see you again. How are you?"

"From all I've heard, that is a question I should pose you."

Remus grimaced slightly as he imagined how the Order grapevine had worked to inform the other members of what had happened to him from the start of his seizures to Sirius' return. But he should have known that this was nothing that could be kept a secret, and the other Order members had a right to know what had brought Sirius back. Though, Remus had to admit with a slightly grudging feeling, none of them seemed to have cared overly much about his death in the first place, so that put their right to know about everything into a different light for him.

"I am quite all right, Minerva."

"And Sirius?"

Remus really didn't want to go there right now. Not at all. "That remains to be seen. It's too early to tell yet."

McGonagall nodded pensively and sipped some of her tea. Remus thought this was as good an opportunity as any to change the topic.

"What about you? Ready for another year at Hogwarts?"

"As much as I can be, yes. Though I definitely needed a holiday after the last year. Albus promised to inform me immediately if I was needed here, but obviously, he, too, thought I could do with a holiday."

Remus smiled. "You can allow yourself a week or two off, Minerva. I'm sure that Albus would have called you had there been the need for your presence."

McGonagall chuckled. "Exactly what my daughter said when I was pacing like a caged animal during the first day of my visit to her. But sitting around just makes me feel old, Remus."

Remus chuckled. "Ah, that's still quite some time off, Minerva. And from what I heard, everybody was in need of recreation after a year with Dolores Umbridge."

"You don't even know half of it, Remus."

The both of them continued talking about her visit to her daughter and other small pleasantries for another few minutes, until the door to the basement kitchen opened and Hagrid's enormous bulge filled the doorway. He entered the room and with a smile on his face came over towards Remus and McGonagall.

"Remus, Professor, Good evenin' to you."

He sat down on the other side of the table.

"How have things been going, Hagrid?"

The giant man shrugged. "All right. I 'ave been to Irelan' for a week. Bringin' Buckbeak to the 'ippogriff herd I foun' there."

"All went well?"

"Took a few days, but in the end they took ol' Bucky in. Sweet sight, seein' the little one fightin' his first fights for rank amon' th'other males. He's 'appy, I'd say."

Remus smiled. At least one who found a bit of happiness. After a year of being locked up in the confined space of Mrs. Black's bedroom, the hippogriff had definitely earned a taste of freedom. At least one of those who had been locked up in this accursed house should have.

Before those dark thoughts could take a firmer hold on Remus, the door to the kitchen opened again, and Kingsley and Dumbledore entered the room. As Remus didn't know who was supposed to come to the meeting tonight, he could not tell whether everybody was there, but Dumbledore took a short look around the room, then went over to the counter and poured himself a cup of tea, seemingly in no hurry to open the meeting. Meaning that somebody was still missing. Moody was nowhere to be seen, and considering that Dumbledore had been to a meeting with the Minister this afternoon, it could very well be that it was him they were waiting for. The conversation which had mostly stopped upon Dumbledore's entry picked up again as the Order members began to realise that the meeting was not yet opened. Bill chatting with Tonks, Charlie in conversation with his parents, Elphias Dodge and Emmeline Vance, Kingsley talking to Snape and Dumbledore, others sitting by themselves and waiting, like Dung, who appeared to be fast asleep. The big crowd tonight, whatever that was supposed to mean.

They waited for another five minutes, until there were sounds outside the door. The distinctive _clunk-pause-clunk-pause_ of Moody descending the stairs. A moment later, the door opened and the old Auror stepped into the room. Conversation in the room quickly came to a halt again. Not because of Moody, he was a well known sight at headquarters. No, it was because of the man who came in after Moody and closed the door. Remus was sure that he paled, and had he been holding his teacup at that moment, he'd probably have spilled its contents.

Janus Lupin didn't seem to notice his brother's presence, and if he did, he didn't acknowledge him in any way. Instead, he followed Moody into the room, and while the old Auror sat down in a chair close to Dumbledore, Janus leaned against the wall next to the pantry door, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes scanning the room, taking everything in. Remus didn't quite know what to make of his brother's presence, but as Moody had brought him along, Remus guessed that there was some sense in it. Though he didn't like the development, not at all. He focussed his gaze on Dumbledore, trying to ignore the questioning looks some of the Order members threw into his direction because of Janus' presence.

Dumbledore waited for another few moments, then he got up from his chair.

"Now that we're complete, we can begin. I thank you all for coming, there is quite a bit we have to discuss tonight."

Remus could not help it, no matter if he wanted to or not he had to throw occasional glances at his brother. At Dumbledore's words, Janus had silently raised an eyebrow, and the smallest traces of a smile were playing around the corners of his mouth. Remus knew what his brother was thinking. Janus had always preferred acting over talking – or worse, talking about what could probably be done. Janus was a man of action, maybe that was part of the reason why he and Remus had hardly ever found any common ground. Though a thinker and a man made for action should be able to work out as a team, Remus and Sirius had always been a good team. Though Sirius was far different from Janus. But with Janus and him, millions of other things stood in the way. Probably it were those differences between himself and Janus, their bumpy history as brothers, but just this one raised eyebrow, this little hint of a sardonic smile made Remus defensive. Of course the Order was not working perfectly, of course they were not as effective as they would like to be, but at least they were doing something. They were trying to prevent that Voldemort took over the wizarding world, they didn't just sit by and watch like so many others did. Limited resources and manpower, limited access to information were playing against them, hindering to achieve more than they did, but they were doing something. If Janus thought so little of it, then why had he even bothered to appear?

"I have just come from a long meeting with Minister Fudge", Dumbledore continued. "I won't bore you with all the details, but there are a few points that are of interest for the Order. For one, though that concerns most of you personally rather than the Order as such, given the new situation I have talked to Minister Fudge about Sirius. And while the Minister still doesn't seem entirely satisfied with the explanations provided for the events in the Department of Mysteries, there is also nothing he can use to persecute anybody for the destruction of the archway or Sirius' sudden return. He might have suspicions, but there is nothing he can prove, nothing he can connect exactly to what happened that night. I'm convinced the story about Sirius' wrongful imprisonment will soon be cleared up."

If that would help Sirius any, Remus thought. In his momentary condition, probably not.

"For now, the Minister agreed to issue a search warrant for Peter Pettigrew. He doesn't seem entirely convinced about the sense behind it, but at least the Auror units will be told to keep an eye out for him."

A mirthless chuckle from the direction of the pantry door made most Order members turn their heads. Janus was still leaning there like he had done before, now both eyebrows raised and a more than just sceptical look on his face. Moody had not turned, on the contrary he seemed as if he had not heard the younger Auror at all.

"Mr. Lupin?", Dumbledore said. "Do you have anything to say to that?"

Janus remained standing in the same position, his eyes fixing on Dumbledore. "Only that you shouldn't get your hopes too high about that. Searching for an average, inconspicuous man who can turn into a rat at will and has year-long experience of hiding out isn't easy. And I wouldn't assume that just because the Minister has officially issued a search warrant, it'll become the top priority of the entire Auror forces from now on. In all probability, memos with his picture will be pinned up nicely everywhere in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and that will be it. If he gets caught, it will be coincidence."

There was silence in the room after Janus had stopped speaking. Everybody was looking either at him or at Dumbledore, but nobody dared to say anything. Finally, Dumbledore nodded.

"You have a point, of course. Yet I still think it is a step forward that he is finally put on the list of the people who are actively persecuted. It cannot always be the big steps, Mr. Lupin."

Janus shifted slightly and crossed his ankles. "No, but the small steps won't get you very far. Especially if you're about to make a detour. Catching Pettigrew might be a success, but not a breakthrough. He's one Death Eater amongst many, and surely not one of Voldemort's top men." He was interrupted by a sharp intake of breath from a number of the Order members, but continued as if he hadn't noticed. "From what I gather about his story, catching him will back up the story about Black's innocence. Nothing more. And assuming that Black truly was never given a trial, his innocence can be proven by giving him Veritaserum. By giving those who have seen Pettigrew alive Veritaserum. You don't need Pettigrew in person for that. And given that mentally, Black is nothing more than a fruitcake at the moment, freeing him shouldn't be on top of your priority list, anyway."

Remus wanted to punch his brother. He seldom allowed those feelings to take over, but right now he wanted nothing more than to ball his hand into a fist and smash it into Janus' nose and his big, stupid mouth with all his might. He knew that Janus was being provocative on purpose, for a large part probably to provoke _him_, and while he was angry that he was falling for this, Janus' words just made him incredibly, ferally angry. He had been here for hardly more than ten minutes, and already this.

But another thing about Janus' words struck Remus. His brother was very well informed about what was going on in the Order, and that puzzled Remus quite a bit. The only Order member Janus was in regular contact with was Moody, but those two were working together rather often. Yet Remus didn't know Moody as the kind of person to share classified information. Or any kind of information. Moody was extremely paranoid, he hardly trusted anybody. To a certain degree he trusted Janus, Remus knew that, what he had not known was that this trust went rather far, obviously. But then again, those two had been working together for quite some time now.

Dumbledore looked at Janus for a moment, then he turned away again.

"The Minister, Kingsley and I also talked about the Branson and Vandenberg murders. However, while the Minister has access to the case files, he claimed neither to know any more details than we do. However, I cannot imagine that those events were just random and meaningless, I do believe that they tie in, at least in some way, with what the Dark Lord is planning, and I intend to find out. But for that, we need more information about the two cases, and this is the point where you come into this, Mr. Lupin."

Again, Dumbledore turned towards Janus, only to encounter the Auror to be looking back at him with a mirthless smile on his face.

"So you're expecting me to have Alastor drag me here just so that I can reveal classified information? Talk to a DMLE-operation with Ministry outsiders? I'm sorry Professor, but it is hard to believe that you'd just expect me to comply with those wishes. Besides, I'm sure that Alastor has already told you whatever he thought to be important."

"If Alastor knew as much as you did, yes. But while he was involved in one of the investigations, you were the one who was in charge of both of them. You have a different standing in the Department than Alastor has."

Janus laughed. "Meaning that people don't consider me crazy, right. I get to know things Alastor doesn't. And I have no problem sharing information with him if it's necessary or helpful for an investigation."

"But not to anybody else."

Janus shook his head. "Listen, I know that you are trying to achieve something. And that's better than sitting around and waiting for the war to start. But the fact is that you neither have the number of people nor the structures to really do something. I'm employed by the Ministry, not by your resistance organisation. I can't just go and divulge information to you."

Before Dumbledore could answer, there was the sound of a chair scratching over tiles. Moody had turned his chair and was now looking up at Janus.

"Stop playing the asshole, kid. You know how the Ministry works, you know how the DMLE works. They have more manpower, they might have the better structure, but they also have the bureaucracy, the laws and regulations. I know that you are aware of how much this can be a hindrance at times. Do you honestly think that anything you tell the people here in this room about those investigations and their consequences could compromise the Ministry, or the DMLE? I know that you're clever, you must have figured out that I didn't bring you here tonight so that we could all admire your stylish robes."

A gleeful smile tugged at the corners of Remus' mouth. Moody had called Janus _kid_. And he had said he was behaving like an asshole. Now, Remus knew that it was childish, but he could not stop being gleeful about this. Just a little bit. Besides, Moody was right. It was one thing to be loyal to the Ministry, another entirely to play the secret keeper where he could provide useful information. And, much to Remus' surprise, Janus let Moody talk to him like that. Had Remus been the one to say those things…oh-oh.

Janus sighed a martyr's sigh. "Listen, how about you just ask what you want to know, and then I see what I can tell you."

Dumbledore didn't seem to be entirely content with that answer, but Moody loudly moved his chair back into its previous position.

"Which conclusions did you draw from the investigations?"

Janus shrugged. "That's not hard to guess, is it? We have three murders which were all committed in the same fashion. Forced entry into the houses, torture, killing. None of the victims had given any indication that they were threatened or stalked before the deed, and it was easy enough for the perpetrators to get into the private homes because none were protected stronger than your average home. A simple _Alohomora_ did the job. Two of the victims were high ranking Ministry members. Branson coordinated the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Vandenberg was one of the top-Aurors, the longest on duty in the Department. Now, torture is normally an indication that the perpetrators were trying to make the victims talk, but if that was the case, then there is no way for us to find out. There is no indication that they were handling any special kind of highly sensible information other than what they encountered in their daily work, we didn't find any suspicious "Top Secret" stamps on files in their offices, nothing at all that would make it easy." He shrugged. "There is little doubt as to who the perpetrators are. The Dark Mark at the scene of the Branson murders gives a pretty good indication."

"As far as I know, there was no Dark Mark at the scene of the Vandenberg murder", Dumbledore said.

Janus nodded. "Right. But they didn't necessarily need one. They made their announcement that they were back with the first murders."

"Then what do you make of it?"

Janus shrugged, uncrossed his ankles and shifted his weight so that he was leaning against the wall with one shoulder. Aside from Dumbledore, he was the only one who was not sitting down.

"More than one way to interpret what happened. Either Voldemort is planning something, and it has a specific reason why Branson and Vandenberg were killed and nobody else so far. But if that's the case, then we're missing a connection, because so far we haven't found any reason that singled those two out from everybody else in the department."

"You said there was more than one way to interpret what happened."

Janus rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you've been through all this already."

"Please, Mr. Lupin. Indulge us", Dumbledore said, earning another eye-roll as an answer.

"The other logical explanation is that they were targeted because they were high ranking personnel in the Ministry, respectively in law enforcement. And that means other high-ranking Ministry personnel could become targets as well. The big question is who could be next, and why they stopped after Vandenberg. Or rather, why they paused."

"So you think this wasn't the end?"

Janus shrugged, as if nothing could concern him less. "At this point, I definitely can't exclude it as a possibility. After all, what better way than to wrack havoc upon a society than to take out the ones who hold the society together. Theoretically, Voldemort would be rather clever if he managed to take out the experienced people in government, law enforcement and administration. They will be replaced by people who are not as experienced, and if you continue this for long enough you'll weaken the structures remarkably without too much effort."

"Then the question indeed would be why there were only three murders, and not more as of yet."

"Maybe something else came in between. Maybe they'll continue tomorrow, maybe something else is behind it. Maybe there really were after some kind of information, I cannot say."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, but it was Bill who spoke up.

"What about those Ministry people who went missing at the time of the second murder?"

Janus turned towards the oldest Weasley son, for a second or two completely astonished before his expression shifted back into a guarded mask. "So you knew about that. Well, that turned out to be nothing connected to the murders. Just three people who didn't show up for work and who couldn't immediately be reached at home. It became talk because it happened so closely to the last murder, but proved to be nothing. Moody, Shaklebolt or Tonks could have told you that, as well."

Kingsley nodded. "The issue was cleared up pretty quickly, that's true. I guess you weren't there when I notified the others."

Silence settled over the kitchen. Janus let his eyes roam across the room as if daring anybody else to ask him a question. Remus thought that this was as good a time as any.

"What about the connection to France?"

Janus' head swivelled around so that he was facing his younger brother. His gaze rested on Remus for a few moments, a disapproving glare in his eyes. Then slowly one corner of his mouth curled upward.

"_Rien_. Absolutely no sign of a connection to what happened here in England. Sometimes, it seems, people still die without Death Eaters being involved."  
Remus would have loved to respond something to that, but he swallowed the remarks that came to his mind down. Instead he only raised an eyebrow and remained silent until Janus turned away again. Elphias Dodge used the ensuing silence to speak up.

"What is the Ministry doing about what happened?"

Janus shrugged and finally pulled up a chair and sat down in the spot where he had stood before. He crossed his legs and shrugged again.

"As far as the investigation is concerned, the cases are still open. They won't be closed until we find the ones who did it. But considering that a lot of murders from the last war are still open cases because they're known Death Eater attacks but can't have been tied to specific perpetrators, an open case file doesn't mean that the case will be solved in the end. As far as security measures are concerned, everybody is taking greater care. The security around the Minister and his substitute as well as the heads of the Departments has been tightened remarkably, but as of yet not to the extreme. No twenty-four hour body-guarding, no safe-houses or anything."

Dodge nodded, thoughtfully sipping his tea. Dumbledore waited for another beat, then he looked around the room, his eyes finally settling first on Emmeline Vance and then Daedalus Diggle. "What about the property issues we discussed the last time we met?"

Vance and Diggle shared a glance, then Vance gestured for Diggle to start.

"Well, as you asked me to, I spent a couple of nights and days travelling and observing the buildings and properties you listed. The bad news is that while those might have been hideouts or safe houses during the last war, they're no longer in use. Or not right now. Some of the buildings have been modified during the past years, the properties sold and turned into something that is anything but a Death Eater hideout. The bigger part of those properties are still vacant, unused, some to the degree that they're no longer inhabitable. I accessed whatever was accessible and found nowhere any trace of recent usage. Nevertheless, I placed some monitoring charms which should alert me to any activity there for the next four weeks. I gave the details to Emmeline so that she could combine it with what she found out."

Vance pulled a scroll of parchment out of her pocket and handed it over to Dumbledore.

"I've listed it all there. While Daedalus went investigating the properties, I had a look in the Public Records Office. Fifteen of the twenty-two properties have been resold during the past fifteen years, and none of the new owners' names rung any bells. I copied them down for you. The other seven properties remained with the same owners, again no names that were in any way suspicious. And I checked the listings of those people who signed in to have a look at the property listings in the Public Records Office. It was a long-winded search to see who had a look at listings of unused and empty properties and buildings. I had to do it for every single district, and came up nearly empty-handed. No names of known Death Eaters having an interest in empty properties, unfortunately. As if it was ever that easy. But there were a number of names that struck me as a bit odd, one was the name of a long-deceased muggle movie star, so I told Daedalus to have a look at the respective properties. So far, nothing came up, but we'll keep an eye on them. I've listed them below the others."

"They have to have meeting places", Moody fell in. "The problem is, they won't make it easy to find them. Not easy at all. And considering that some Death Eaters are wealthy enough to provide the adequate meeting places, they'll be nearly impossible to find."

"At least not with the tails we have on some of them", Diggle said and shook his head as if he could not believe it himself.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. But still I think we should keep those tails up for as long as we can. It is a wide shot to assume that Lucius Malfoy would do anything to give himself or any plans away, but for as long as we can afford it, we can hope that maybe he makes such a mistake."

Janus, who had been about to take a sip of his coffee, chocked and coughed. "You have a tail on Lucius Malfoy?"

Dumbledore turned towards him. "Yes. As often as possible, but of course there is no telling what he does or where he goes he is in his mansion, or apparates or portkeys somewhere from there. The rest of the time, we trace those movements as thoroughly as possible."

A very big grin started to spread across Janus' face. An unnerving grin.

"What is so amusing about that, Mr. Lupin?"

"Well, apparently whoever it is who's tailing Malfoy for you is good. Because none of my people who have been tailing him were aware that they weren't the only ones."

Moody turned towards the younger Auror with a speed one wouldn't have supposed from a man of his age.

"You're tailing Malfoy as well?"

"I'm having him tailed, yes."

"Then why in Merlin's name weren't Moody or I informed about it?", Kingsley interrupted. "We could have very well done without the double effort."

Janus raised an eyebrow, very slowly, very pointedly, as he turned to face Kingsley.

"I wasn't aware that I had to announce a _secret_ trail on a Death Eater to the whole Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Let me re-check when I come into my office tomorrow, but I think _you_ are not on my list of people I need to notify of what I do."

"Oh no? Then who is on that list, if I may ask."

"The Aurors who are trailing him. Period. The Minister of Magic, should he request to be told about all current activities. Nobody else. The more people who know about it, the bigger the chance that the one who's tailed gets to know something he shouldn't. Voldemort's people are everywhere, Mr. Shacklebolt."

Kingsley was so angry, he was positively spluttering. "You…you can't just go ahead and take Aurors off their assigned task and reassign them to tailing Death Eaters."

"Yes, Mr. Shacklebolt, I can do that. It's fully within my competences to do so, and I most certainly won't justify myself for doing so. On the contrary, I will most certainly keep on doing things without informing the head of the DMLE, Alastor or you about it."

"So basically you don't give a damn whether we're wasting the little manpower we have on a task which you already assigned to somebody else, just because you love being secretive about what you do."

Janus smirked. "Basically, yes. My superiors have given me a lot of leeway to work with, do you honestly think I will restrict myself to keep a group of non-official Ministry outsiders informed about my every move? The Order obviously has its people in the Department, you amongst them Mr. Shacklebolt, I think it's enough if those give away confidential information."

Kingsley angrily shook his head. "Is that easy, isn't it? The Ministry gratefully accepts every bit of information from the Order which your own people could not dig up, but when it's about reciprocating you turn a blind eye?"

Janus smiled calmly. "Isn't it public duty to inform the authorities if you have information about illegal activities? That doesn't mean that the authorities have to call you back and tell you whenever they find out about something illegal. Listen, I do not deny that you're trying to do something good here. And were you given greater capacities, you might be a really successful group. And nobody wants to stop you from doing what you're doing, Merlin knows that far too few people do more than worry about when the war will break out. But still there is no, absolutely no reason for me to keep you updated about every single step I take, or about what information I gather in the Department. In case you're interested, I've got eight open cases on my hands right now, a ton of paperwork on my desk waiting to be done by somebody who enjoys paperwork – which isn't me – and by tomorrow morning, there will be even more calls and owls waiting to be answered and investigations to be started. I came here tonight because Alastor asked me to, and I answered whatever question you had, but the simple fact is that I don't have the time to do this regularly. Period."

Kingsley got up so suddenly that his chair scraped against the tiles and threatened to topple over. He drew breath to reply something, but at that moment, Dumbledore raised a hand.

"Gentlemen."

"Albus, you can't just…"

"Kingsley, please. We will most certainly not achieve anything by breaking into a fight now."

Kingsley reluctantly sat down again, silently glowering at Janus while Dumbledore brought the meeting back to Order. Remus could barely remember what they were talking about afterwards. Nothing really important, he hoped, because he wasn't paying attention. Instead, he watched his brother from his position at the far end of the table. Janus' face seemed expressionless, but Remus knew his brother well enough to tell that he was looking smug. No surprise there. It only fed Janus' already unnaturally high degree of arrogance to win a verbal sparring match. Janus had probably not been lying, Remus could imagine that work was piling all around him at the moment. Janus was constantly overloaded with work, and spent twelve to fifteen hours at it on a normal day, during times of peace. However, Remus didn't think that his amount of work was what Janus' point was. On the contrary, he thought that Janus' point had been to draw a clear line between what he had done tonight and what he was willing to do in the future. Janus didn't want to become one of the Order's resources at the Ministry. Period. No matter whether the Order was doing something useful, trying to achieve something, it wasn't something Janus wanted to have on his scope of things to pay attention to. Janus was an egoist, and egocentric. What he wanted was to do _his_ thing, with as little complications as possible. The more people involved, the more complications. It was that simple. But then again, maybe not.

While Remus was busy with those thoughts, he noticed that he was not the only one paying close attention to his brother. Bill Weasley was, as well. Remus forcefully suppressed a smile. He remembered Bill's open spoken admiration for Janus during one of the earlier Order meetings. Far be it from him to understand, but for many people, Janus was well on his way to becoming a legend in law enforcement. Janus was good, Remus didn't doubt that. He had never concerned himself with the details of Janus' work, but the bits he knew were enough to say that. Back in France, Janus had received an excellent training and education, theoretically and practically. He had worked his way up through the French law enforcement system far more quickly than most others, then, as if France could offer him nothing of new interest, had followed his father and brother to England and started the same there. He had been teamed up with Moody during his initial years, and the old and quirky Auror had recognised Janus' talent and done his best to support his career in the Department. By now, they were not working together anymore, at least not on a regular basis, but Remus was sure that Moody was still keeping an eye on Janus' development. It hadn't been any different during the first war, when Sirius had still been… Remus chased that thought away. Not now, now he wasn't ready for it. Though Janus would have had an interesting times if fate had played a different game and Sirius had not gone to Azkaban. Those two had never liked each other, and at work they would have collided more often than not, probably. In a way, they had been too similar to get along, but somehow Sirius had managed to turn all those attributes that made Janus such an unbearable bastard into positive characteristics. But those were mind-games. Janus and Sirius had never worked together, and probably never would. Instead, Janus had risen to become one of the higher-ranking Aurors in the Department, one of the few who had a say. And he mostly worked alone.

Remus could understand Bill's fascination with a personality like his brother's. Bill was not working for the Ministry, but he had surely heard his fair share of stories about Janus. There were certain qualities about him that favoured his being thought of as some legend-to-be one day. Most of all, his complete disregard for his own safety, a trait that led to Janus always taking one step farther, daring just one bit more than anybody else with a sense of self-preservation would do. Not only did that add the element of constant danger, but also led to Janus having one of the highest rate of solved crimes in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was that edge which so many young Aurors admired in him, maybe especially because they knew that they themselves were lacking this edge, this disregard for their own life in the face of danger.

Remus understood those feelings, only he could not share them. Because contrary to Bill, he knew different sides of Janus. His bad sides. His recklessness, complete disregard for rules which applied to everybody else, his anger that could be horrible once it was unleashed.

Bill didn't know the Janus who had worked for some special forces department in the French Ministry for more than four years, a time during which he had not initiated any contact to his family, much less told them afterwards what it was that he had done. He had simply left without a word or notification to Remus or their father, and nothing had been heard of him for a long time. Short letters, one roughly each year, stating that he was well, nothing else. He had returned to normal law enforcement just as abruptly four years later, with nothing but an angry tattoo between his shoulder blades and quite a number of scars on his torso to tell of what he had done during that time. Though he never gave an explanation for either. Bill didn't know the Janus who had once – at the age of sixteen – ruined the entire interior of their father's living room in a fit of uncontrolled rage. Bill didn't know the Janus who lived in an apartment that was furnished so impersonally that it could be the showroom in a furniture store. No pictures, no plants, no family photographs, nothing at all that hinted at the character of its inhabitant. And neither did he know the Janus who had spent three months in hospital and rehabilitation two years ago because he had gone and tried to make a suspect apprehension that would have been a job for two or three on his own, without calling for backup. He had made the apprehension, but had nearly paid too high a prize for it. But Bill didn't know about that, of course, and that explained his admiration for Janus.

Remus shook his head and forced himself to listen to whatever it was Dumbledore was talking about. Trust Janus to cause such a degree of confusion in Remus just by making an appearance. Little did he know that this was not yet all the day had to offer for him.


	41. The Art of Friendship

Chapter 41 – The Art of Friendship 

While the Order was holding the meeting in the kitchen downstairs, Harry was sitting in his room reading in the Quidditch Encyclopaedia Ron and Hermione had given him for his birthday. He had picked it up as a means to distract Ron from his attempts at cheering Harry up. He knew that his friend only meant well, but he was not in the mood for any games or a chat now. Not with all those thoughts about Sirius on his mind. Ron must have sensed that, because he had finally given up all attempts to engage Harry in a conversation or a game, and was now sitting at the small table in the room, leafing through a broomstick-catalogue which Charlie had brought along from Diagon Alley.

Distracting himself with the book only worked partly, but at least it worked. He could always read a few paragraphs before his thoughts strayed away to Sirius again. Or rather, to the lifeless hull that was lying in a bed in St. Mungo's, which in no way resembled the godfather Harry had gotten to know. He had risked so much, and yet in the end it all had been in vain. He had brought Sirius back all right, only he seemed to have forgotten a crucial part about it.

Another paragraph, about the team history of the Chudley Cannons. Ron's favourite team. He wondered what Sirius' favourite Quidditch team was. His godfather had played Quidditch, that much Harry knew. Who had told him that? He could not remember, but from some recess of his mind the information that Sirius had once played Quidditch had come crawling out.

Harry breathed in deeply and stared to read another paragraph. Ivan Jenogiew, the famous Russian beater had once played for the Cannons, during the time when they had won their only championship. Which position had Sirius played? Harry could imagine him being a beater. For some reason, that fit. Seekers were mostly small and lithe. Harry remembered the younger Sirius he had seen in Snape's pensieve, and his godfather hadn't seemed particularly lithe to him. Rather broadly built around the shoulders, muscular. Not a chaser's physique, though. Beaters had to bee strongly built, it took quite a bit of strength to beat the bludgers around the pitch, with precision and the necessary force behind it. That was one of the reasons why so few women made excellent beaters, at least not on a professional Quidditch level. Yes, Harry could very well imagine Sirius being a beater. Probably a keeper, but for some reason Harry was sure that he had been a beater. The picture of Jenogiew began to swim in front of his eyes as his mind tried to replace the Russian's head with Sirius', and Harry quickly read on.

An injury had finally caused Jenogiew to end his career during his third season with the Canons, and he had started a new career as manager in his brother-in-law's broomstick factory. What had Sirius done after leaving Hogwarts? Of course he had been in the Order during the war, but "member of the resistance against Voldemort" was not a job-description. Sirius must have done something to earn a living, and Harry had no idea what it was. Remus could surely tell him, but Harry didn't want to ask his former teacher. He didn't want to talk about Sirius, he wanted him back. Nothing more, nothing less. Just having him back.

Harry shot the book so forcefully that Ron jumped in his chair and turned around, eyes wide. Harry threw the book onto the bed and got up.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

He went over towards the door.

"Where are you going?", Ron said. "You can't go into the kitchen, they're having a meeting there."

"I don't know. I just need to move around a bit."

And without offering another explanation, he left the room and started to walk up and down the corridors, aimlessly. Had Buckbeak still been there, he'd have gone and visited the hippogriff, but he had been told that Hagrid had taken him away to wilder him out again. Hedwig was somewhere in the attic, but Harry didn't have any idea how to get up there. After maybe five minutes, he found himself back in the corridor where his and Ron's room was located, but he stopped in front of Remus' room. Now it was Remus' room, but at some point during his first stay at Grimmauld Place this summer, he had heard somebody – had it been Mrs. Weasley? he couldn't remember – mention that it had been Sirius' room before. Not quite knowing why, he raised his hand and knocked.

No answer. of course not. Remus was downstairs in the kitchen, attending an Order meeting. Harry half-decided to leave again, but then decided differently and reached for the doorknob. It turned easily in his hand and he opened the room and stepped in. He didn't feel entirely comfortable breaching Remus' privacy like that, but he guessed that the man would understand. It was not as if Harry was searching through his things, he just…well, he just wanted to be close to his godfather. And being here in his former bedroom was as close as he could get at Grimmauld Place. He stepped fully into the room, closed the door behind himself, and took a look around.

Harry didn't know what he had expected, but at first glance nothing in the room immediately brought Sirius to his mind. There was a bed – not a four-poster, a normal bed, a desk next to the window, a shelf beside it. No more furniture, except from a wooden wardrobe and an armchair in front of the window. Biting his lip, Harry looked around.

Most of the possessions in the room seemed to be Remus'. A few books on the shelf, papers on the desk, his briefcase on the floor beside the desk. A tattered robe hanging from a hook on the back of the door. It took Harry maybe a minute to see the picture frame on the shelf. It had been placed facedown, as if Remus had not wanted to look at it. A snapshot, taken at some point long in the past, a time Harry could not remember. The frame cradled in his hands, Harry stepped back towards the armchair and sat down. There were his parents, smiling into the camera, his father holding a still very small Harry in his arms. Remus was standing next to Lily, his hair not yet streaked with grey, his face not yet looking as tired and worn, his robes not as patched and tattered as they were now. And next to James, Sirius was standing, beaming into the camera. A beater, definitely, Harry picked up his earlier train of thoughts. If Sirius had still played Quidditch at that time. A handsome man, yet not wasted by Azkaban. Young. Smiling. His blue eyes sparkling with mischief and simple joy.

From time to time, Remus would vanish from the picture, and a moment later Peter Pettigrew would appear, waving into the camera from the left side of the picture before vanishing again to send Remus back, but Harry was so wrapped up in his godfather's image that he didn't pay any mind to Pettigrew. As much as he despised the man for all the horrors he had unleashed over Harry's family, he was woven into his parent's past. No matter what had become of him, once he had been his father's friend. Remus' friend. Sirius' friend. He had betrayed them all, had caused this horrible chain of events that had brought nothing but unhappiness into Harry's life, but Harry would not allow him to taint even the few memories he could steal from his parents and Sirius. Wormtail had destroyed too much already, Harry wouldn't let him destroy anything more.

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The meeting went on for another twenty minutes. Not that Remus could keep up with what was being said during that time. Janus' presence still had him far too confused and upset, so he was actually quite glad when Albus called an end to the meeting and the sound of chairs scratching over the tiles filled the room. People began filing out of the room, a few remained behind to exchange a few words with each other, Molly cleared away the dishes, and Tonks occupied herself with waking Dung up. Moody had pulled Janus into a corner near the pantry door and was talking to him in hushed tones, his magical eye revolving wildly. Janus listened to what the older Auror had to say, then responded in equally hushed tones. Contrary to Moody, he didn't seem to be agitated at all. The conversation continued for another few minutes, then Moody ended it with an abrupt gesture, said something else, and began limping towards the door. Remus looked around, astonished to find that he and Janus remained alone in the kitchen. He hadn't even noticed that everybody had left already.

As Remus got up, Janus turned towards him. Remus didn't particularly fancy a conversation with his older brother, but right now it seemed inevitable. Janus re-warmed the coffee in his cup with a quick tap of his wand, then drained it in one gulp.

"Remus", he said as he put the empty cup into the sink to the other dishes. "It's been a long time."

"Nothing new for you, is it?"

Janus shrugged, as if he couldn't care less about how often he saw his brother. Probably he couldn't.

"What do you want?"

Remus frowned. "Pardon?"

A martyr's sigh escaped Janus' lips. He seemed to be practicing those tonight. "You stayed behind and waited until we were alone, and you've got that look on your face which says you're about to start lecturing. So get over with it, I don't have much time."

"I didn't wait for you on purpose. And I have no intention to give you a lecture."

Janus snorted disbelievingly. "That would be a first. Then what do you want? An amicable chat between brothers?"  
"With any other brother, that might even be possible. But why did you even come here tonight if you have absolutely no intention to help us?"

"Because Alastor asked me to come along. And had you been paying attention, I did answer all the questions I was asked."

"And of course you didn't hold _anything_ back", Remus said.

"I told you everything you need to know."

"And who made you the one to judge what we need to know?"

Janus shook his head and leaned against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Remus, if you honestly believe that you can make me tell anything I didn't tell earlier, then you are mistaken."

"That is not the point."

"Then what is the point?", Janus snapped. "Because I slowly tire of this. I'm doing your Order a favour by coming here, but unfortunately I cannot help you in the way you'd have wanted me to. Sad, but true. But that doesn't mean that I can stand at the ready just because Professor Dumbledore might snap his fingers for me in the future. I've got a job to do."

"Even if sharing information, working together with us, might help things?"

"Remus, why don't you just leave law enforcement work to law enforcement specialists?"

"Spare me that, Janus. Spare me that. I don't need you to patronise me, and I don't need your arrogance. You might not be able to see it, but there are people outside the DMLE who are able to work against Voldemort."

"Yes, but it's not my duty to give them the information they need to pursue their little resistance."

"_Their little resistance_? That's all this is to you, right? Because only the almighty Janus Lupin and his colleagues can fight the war, right?"

"Remus, just because you've got nothing else to do, don't vent your frustration out on me. I can't help you, period. And if doing what you do is your way to keep yourself occupied, fine by me. But don't involve me into this."

Remus just shook his head. "Just when did you become this way, Janus?"

Janus raised a hand, indicating that it would not be wise to pursue this line of thought any further. "Don't go there, Remus. Don't start all this personal, emotional bullshit with me just because your friends have a tendency to die away under your hands and you're obviously not able to deal with it."

"I wouldn't ever waste my time with talking emotional to somebody as cold and self-centred as you! Just because you were never able to make, much less hold friends, you will not dare to judge what I've been going through! And I will not allow you ever to speak of Sirius again like you did earlier, did I make myself clear?"

Janus only laughed. "If you want to threaten me, you'll have to think of something else. Get a grip on your life, Remus, it's about time."

And without waiting for an answer, he turned around and left the kitchen. A few moments later, Remus heard the front door being shut, fortunately not loud enough to wake the portrait of Sirius' mother up. That would have just topped the day. Remus remained standing in the kitchen, breathing hard. Confrontations with Janus always did that to him, though he didn't know why. He always felt tongue-tied, always thought of a hundred things he wanted to tell his brother when the confrontation was long over with. In Janus' presence, he always had enough to do not to lose his composure immediately. He just couldn't stand his brother's presence, he just couldn't.

Remus slammed a hand onto the kitchen table angrily, then he turned around and left the kitchen, heading back for his room upstairs.

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By the time he reached his room, Remus was still upset about his encounter with his brother. Not about what Janus had said about him, Remus was used to that by now. The fact that his lycanthropy stopped him from getting a normal job was not something Remus liked to have rubbed in, but coming from Janus that was not what caused Remus' anger. Not anymore. What had enraged him was how Janus had talked about Sirius, how he had talked about the Order, generally how Janus belittled everything that other people did. Janus had always been arrogant, but slowly he was taking it to the extreme.

So when he finally reached his own bedroom and flung the door open, it took him a moment to notice that Harry was sitting curled up on the armchair underneath the window. The teenager flinched upon Remus' loud and forceful entry and immediately got to his feet.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be in here."

Remus stared at Harry for a moment, as if he had difficulties placing him, then he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

"No, it's all right. I didn't notice you at first, I was a bit preoccupied."

"Did something happen?"

"No, it's just…", he waved himself off. "I had an encounter with my brother. I was a bit confused. What brings you here? If you were searching for me, you could have called me out of the meeting."

Harry shook his head. "No, I wasn't…not really at least. I…I don't quite know why I came here."

Remus seemed confused for a moment, then he sat down on the foot-end of the bed and gestured towards the armchair.

"By all means, sit down again. And then tell me what's bothering you."

Harry reluctantly sat, picking up the picture he had dropped onto the armchair earlier. He fingered the frame and looked down at the floor.

"It's nothing, really. No, that's not true. I just couldn't stop thinking about Sirius. Ron tried to distract me, but that didn't work. Then I tried to read, but that didn't work, either. I just thought, you said I could come and talk to you, but you were downstairs, and then I remembered that this had once been Sirius' room. I know I shouldn't have come in here without asking first, but I thought that, you know, that something in here might remind me of him. I found the picture on the shelf. I'm sorry, I really didn't want to pry."

Remus put a hand on Harry's knee and silently looked him in the eyes until the teenager stopped babbling.

"It's all right, Harry. Really." He looked around the room. "Though I'm afraid that while you're right and this has once been Sirius' room, there hasn't remained much to remind of him. He hadn't been living at Grimmauld Place since he was seventeen, those things he left behind back then have disposed of by his parents long ago. Tonks and I found the boxes with everything that was confiscated after his arrest in the attic. Sirius went through the boxes once after he arrived here, but he didn't unpack much. I couldn't bring myself to do it, either. So there isn't all that much here. But you can go up to the attic and have a look at the boxes anytime." His eyes fell onto the framed picture in Harry's hands. "That is one of the few things Sirius brought down here. That and the picture I gave you. After everything that happened, however, I found that I couldn't look at it anymore. That is why you found it lying face-down on the shelf."

Harry looked down at the picture, and Remus asked himself for how long the teenager had been sitting here already.

"That was taken about three months after you were born. Sirius' birthday, October 26th. He didn't throw a big party, but he invited all of us over for the evening. He even cooked. Merlin, that was awful, I can tell you. I've never eaten a worse lasagne in my entire life. He even managed to over-salt the salad. In the end, we called out for takeaway food because nobody was able to eat any of it." He laughed and shook his head. "Looking back, it didn't matter, we still had a great evening."

Harry's eyes had misted over. "I didn't even know when Sirius' birthday was", he said in a rough voice. Remus gave his knee another squeeze, then leaned back against the wall so that he could still look at Harry.

For a few moments, they sat there in silence. Harry was fingering the frame of the photograph, and didn't manage to tear his eyes away from Sirius' smiling face.

"There's so much I don't know about him. He appeared in my life over two years ago, and still I don't know anything about him."

Finally, he looked up at Remus. "Can you tell me something about him? Only if you want to, if not you don't have to."

Remus smiled gently. "Of course I can. What do you want to hear?"

Harry shrugged, his fingers nervously working over the glass beneath which the image of his parents and godfather was caught. "I don't know. Just something about him, something good."

"Then I most certainly won't tell you anything about his never ending attempts at using a kitchen. Those were never good."

That did the trick and brought a small smile onto Harry's face. Remus thought for a moment.

"I don't quite know where to start. The Sirius you have gotten to know…Azkaban has changed him. No small wonder, it has taken a lot away from him. Not only time to live and experience, it has left many scars. Over the past year, I often had the feeling that I had to get to know him anew. But one thing I learned quickly – Azkaban had not changed the person he was, inside. Some parts of it were buried deeper than before, but he had not become an entirely different person. Though at times that was hard to believe, having known Sirius before he went to Azkaban. There were times when he was depressed, and during those times it was hard to recognise the old Sirius again. Living in this house didn't do him any good, either.

One thing that never changed about him was that he is an incredible friend. Has always been. There is a saying. _A good friend stands in harm's way for you the moment you ask – but a great friend does it without being asked at all._ That has always been Sirius' understanding of friendship – incredible devotion. To those whom he let close, he was such a great friend, one who always wanted to keep the others from coming to harm, even if it meant that he had to put himself in harm's way for it. Like when he immediately volunteered to become your parents' secret keeper, and I'm absolutely sure that nobody would have managed to get any information out of him, no matter what they did.

One of his biggest talents is that he could always read people very well. He knew when somebody was not telling him the truth, when things were kept from him or when there was something wrong. Not always, like all of us he didn't see the truth about Peter, but Sirius had a knack for judging people and their behaviour. And when he sensed that something was wrong with his friends he didn't let go until he had found out which way there was for him to help. Fierce and incredibly loyal, that describes him pretty well. It has always been either entirely or not at all for him, either he was behind something with all his heart, or not at all."

"Did he and my Dad know each other before they came to Hogwarts?"

Remus smiled and shook his head. "No. I don't even think they met on the train. I remember seeing James with some boys he knew who later ended up in Ravenclaw. The first I became consciously aware of them together was after the sorting. Sirius had ended up opposite of James, right next to me. Already back then, Sirius had been a very exuberant personality, and he ended up entertaining our end of the table with the plans he had made for his first weeks at Hogwarts. What happened between him and James was the friendship equivalent of love at first sight." He laughed. "They just matched. It happens often that childhood or teenage friendships don't work out, but after a few weeks already it became obvious that this would not be the case between your father and godfather. It just…it was as if they were meant to meet. What Sirius lacked, James had, and vice versa. Sometimes I got the feeling that there were moments when they didn't even need to speak to understand each other. It was downright scary at times. They did have their fights, and if you were unlucky to be in their vicinity when that happened, you could get the feeling that the world was coming to an end, but it was always over as quickly as it came. James and Sirius both knew that they needed each other far too much than to spend their time fighting. They were both extremely devoted and loyal when it came to friendships."

"Yes, and if I can believe everybody, Sirius was also rash, impulsive, and basically not a good person."

Remus looked up at the teenager, a slight frown on his face. He thought for a moment before he answered.

"Sirius is a good person. Has always been. Don't let anybody tell you something else. But he has never been a saint. Like any other human being, Sirius has flaws in character. Personally, I think that his good sides outweighed his flaws by far, but even I cannot deny that he has them. Which doesn't make him a bad person. Everybody has their flaws in character."

"Then why does everybody keep talking about him as if he had been a bad person?"

"I cannot tell you why people talk the way they do. But I don't think that anybody you know considers Sirius a bad person. Except from Severus maybe, but that's another story. Some might not like him as much as others, but that happens with everybody. I wouldn't think that everybody who talks about Sirius' vices negates that he had good sides as well. They just don't explicitly mention them."

"I don't quite see the sense in talking badly about a person they consider dead. Whether or not they liked him. And let's be honest, nobody here in the Order seemed to be overly sad that Sirius was gone."

Remus sighed deeply. "Not as sad as you and I, probably not. But I'd still not say that they were left cold by it."

Harry shrugged awkwardly, but he didn't say anything. Remus didn't know whether anything he would say could convince the teenager that he wasn't the only one who cared about Sirius. And in all honesty, the degree of grief the other Order members had shown upon his death had not exactly been high. And while Remus knew that one way or another, Sirius' death _had_ affected them, he also knew that it certainly wasn't as much as it had affected Harry, or him.

"What was it like, living with him?"

Remus smiled. "Seven years during which you never knew what he'd come up with next. Already at the age of eleven, he had a hard time sitting still. He always needed something to occupy himself with. Lessons – but only if they were interesting – Quidditch, pranking, investigating the castle, Sirius was a package of perpetual restlessness. Not that he _literally_ couldn't sit still, or that he was bouncing up and down during lessons. It was just that he needed to occupy himself somehow, physically, and with his mind. And as Sirius was an incredibly talented wizard, he never had to work hard for most lessons. There were some subjects which he had to work for a bit harder, but aside from Divination there was nothing that posed any real trouble for him. He always had the ability to grasp things quickly, not only how to master them, but also to understand the theory of why those things worked the way they did. So because he didn't have to work overly hard for school, he had to occupy himself otherwise. He was a prankster from the very first days at Hogwarts, but that quickly developed away from throwing Dungbombs into the girls lavatories. The schemes he and James cooked up became more and more sophisticated. And after a few nights of sneaking around under James' invisibility cloak, we developed the idea to draw a map of Hogwarts. It wasn't as easy as we had imagined it to be, so it became a project we spent more than two years on. And then of course there was their project to become animagi. And despite all that, he managed to exceed in his lessons and be on the Quidditch team.

That is one of the reasons why he was so unhappy last year. Sirius has always been a man who needed to do something. It was driving him insane that all he could do was hang around the house, sit in the Order meetings and listen to others telling about what they were doing. He just couldn't stand it, he felt useless. Of course he couldn't just go out and leave Grimmauld Place, but he should have been given at least a little task that would have made him feel useful."

Harry had put the picture down into his lap and was nervously twisting his fingers. He didn't look up at Remus, and despite his sixteen years he looked so much like a forlorn child that Remus wanted to get up and hug him. He settled on scooting forward so that he could put a hand on Harry's arm. Harry hesitantly looked up at him.

"He cares about you. Deeply so. And the two of you will finally get the time to get to know each other. You'll get your firsthand experience at what living with Sirius is like. He's a great friend, and he'll be a great godfather once all this is over."

Harry smiled shakily, not at all convincingly, and Remus bent forward and hugged him tightly. Harry clung to him for a moment, then he released Remus, leant back on the armchair and pulled his knees up to his chest. Remus leaned back against the wall again and watched Harry.

"What you did in the Department of Mysteries…"

Harry turned his head sharply. "We have talked about that already."

Remus smiled. "I wasn't going to give you another lecture. What I wanted to say was that what you did that night…that was something Sirius would have done. That's what I meant earlier when I said that he is an incredibly devoted friend. He'd do just about anything for somebody he holds dear, completely disregarding at what cost for himself. I don't particularly fancy the idea of either him or you risking your lives, but hold on to that devotion. It's a good thing." He folded his hands across his lap and looked up at the ceiling. "There was this one time, at the end of our fifth year. We were all studying for out O.W.L.s. Sirius and James weren't in any danger of failing any tests, but there were courses for which they had to work quite hard to get the grades they wanted to have. Potions was no piece of cake, and neither was Charms for Sirius or Transfiguration for James. Not to mention History of Magic. We all had classes to attend to, and the final Quidditch match against Ravenclaw was set for the afternoon after the last O.W.L.s, so Sirius and James also had Quidditch training every night. You know how it is before the O.W.L.s, everybody is wired up, stays up late to do more learning even though they're dead tired. And on the evening before the tests in Transfiguration – that was the last test – Peter panicked. He always panicked before exams, that was nothing unusual. He had more difficulties in learning what came easily to most of us. A bit like what I got to know about Neville. But this time, Peter panicked worse than usual. It turned out he was behind on his learning schedule, and horribly so. Recapping the first four years had taken him so long that he had not even started on the things we had covered in the fifth year lessons, and it was the evening before the exam.

Transfiguration has always been Sirius' forte at school, and when Peter threw a fit that evening in the common room as he realised that he'd not get an entire year's worth of Transfiguration into his head in one night, Sirius sat down with him and explained it. And again. And again. Peter was the kind of student who had a tendency to give up when he didn't grasp something immediately, pushing it off until later. Only this time there was no later. So Sirius did his best to get it into Peter's head, until half past four in the morning. Never minding that between his lessons and Quidditch and learning for the tests, he had not had that much sleep during the previous nights as well. I had to literally throw him out of bed the next morning because he didn't want to get up. He even fell asleep in the middle of the test, and you can believe me that Professor McGonagall wasn't exactly enthusiastic about that. I think he preferred being thrown out of bed by me to being woken by a furious Minerva during his exam.

He was lucky that the Quidditch match that afternoon didn't last all that long, otherwise he'd have probably fallen off his broom. And in the evening, while everybody was celebrating that the exams were finally over and that Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, Sirius lay curled up on a sofa in the common room, snoring loudly. Peter was horrified that Sirius had missed the party because of him, but Sirius only said that the main thing was that he had passed the O.W.L.s. Which Peter did. Later, when we were out of Hogwarts and the war was raging, this devotion more than once nearly had more serious effects than a missed party. As we grew up and the world around us grew darker, saving a friend from harm required greater sacrifices than a sleepless night, but there was never any doubt that Sirius was willing to bring that sacrifice. That is one of the things that is uniquely Sirius – you can always rely on him, no matter what."

"Like when he came after me into the Department of Mysteries."

Remus nodded. "Yes, like that. He…during the war, he always gave the impression that he wasn't afraid of dying. That could become unnerving, more than once I was afraid that he didn't have enough fear of dying to take proper care that he'd come back alive. Janus is like that as well, but unlike Sirius he has a complete disregard for what effect what he's doing had on him or others. I always told myself that Sirius enjoyed life far too much to even take dying into consideration, but it was always him I worried about most. It was so ambivalent. I was constantly scared that something might happen to him, and yet I never really allowed myself to believe that it could become true. Sirius was always…he was larger than life. Already during our time at school. When you're young, exuberant and also a bit reckless, but talented and intelligent enough to get out of everything relatively unscathed, it's not difficult to believe that you're immortal. It definitely wasn't difficult to believe that Sirius was immortal, because it was just impossible to imagine that he could no longer be there one day. And then he had to fall through that stupid archway and had to turn everything upside down."

"Mrs. Weasley would have called it rash and impulsive."

Remus shifted slightly on the bed. "Molly and Sirius have an own story, one which might shed a different light on those remarks."

"Yeah, Bill told me about it. When he and Mr. Weasley got into that safe-house where Sirius was planning a trap."

Remus nodded. "That was the breaking point, yes. It started much earlier, though. Those two simply never got along, they were too different to ever become close. But there is a somewhat true core to what Molly said, though not as negative as you might have understood it. But impulsive describes Sirius actually pretty well. Of course he can plan ahead. Planning has always been one of the things Sirius was actually pretty good at. But the best plans sometimes do not work out, and you reach the point where you have to improvise. And though he is a good planner, improvising was always his forte. Reading situations, reacting accordingly, trusting his gut feelings to tell him what to do. That is why he didn't always see the necessity to plan ahead, because he knew he had the ability to get through even without making detailed plans about everything he was about to do. Of course Sirius tended to act impulsively, but he could afford that. However, Sirius never took risks which he couldn't justify. He never risked anybody else's life intentionally. Which is something Molly saw differently, but then again she has a different view on life. Sirius was always only responsible for his own life, Molly had a family to think about. She saw Sirius differently than you or I do. This doesn't mean that she is right with what she thinks about Sirius. As I said, he has never been a saint. But he is and has always been a good person. A person I'd entrust with my life and everything that's important to me at any time, because I know that he'd do everything in his power to protect me. It's a trait about him I once doubted, one I will never doubt again."

Harry still had his head bent down and was looking at his knees. "Hagrid said that he had died in battle, that this was the way he would have wanted to die. It made me so angry that I couldn't even respond to it."

"No, he definitely wouldn't have wanted to die by falling through an archway. Even if it was while duelling Bellatrix. Knowing Sirius, he'd have laughed about it as a ridiculous idea. Besides, I doubt that Sirius would have wanted to die. Period. No matter what way. But I firmly believe that he'd have accepted dying as a possibility if it was for something he deemed worth dying for. Like protecting you. To get you out of the Department of Mysteries that night, Sirius wouldn't have worried whether he was doing something glorious or something ridiculous, as long as you came out of it alive. Assuring that, he'd also have accepted dying by a poisonous butterfly-bite."

"Not exactly a way to go, one way or another."

Remus bent forward and lifted Harry's chin up with his hand. "Sirius didn't want to die. Never. But he accepted it as a possibility if it was for something that was important to him. Like you are important to him. I don't need to rely on guesswork to tell you that."

Harry breathed in deeply. "But he didn't die. Not yet. We brought him back."

"Yes. And won't let him die now, and we'll bring him fully back. I have no idea how to do it, but I'll make sure you'll get him back."

Harry smiled shakily at Remus. "I know. I just…I just want him back so badly. So badly it hurts."

"I miss him too, and it's not bad to feel like that. I want that stubborn old dog back, as well."

Harry remained sitting in the armchair for a few minutes longer, a companionable silence hanging between him and Remus. Eventually, he got up and placed the framed photograph back onto the shelf, though not face-down like he had found it.

"I'll best head back to my room and go to bed, it's already late."

"Come back anytime you want to talk, I'll be here to listen."

"I know, thank you. Good night."

"Good night, Harry."

Remus remained sitting on the bed after Harry had left the room. It was past eleven already, but he didn't feel tired or wanted to go to bed. Instead, he leaned out of the bed so that he could reach his briefcase next to the desk. He pulled it up onto the bed, opened the old and loose clasp and pulled out the parchments he had taken notes on during his earlier research in the Hogwarts library. There was a way to bring Sirius back, he only had to find it.


	42. Taking The Risk

**Chapter 42 – Taking the Risk**

The next morning wasn't one of the good ones, Remus knew that immediately. A lack of sleep was not something one got used to, so even after the exhausting past weeks Remus felt horrible upon waking up after a restless night of tossing and turning. The conversation with Harry had kept Remus from falling asleep for a long time. Wallowing in memories was something Remus had learned to avoid during times when it was too painful, yet this time he had not been able to stop the thoughts from coming. The little he had told Harry had evoked painful memories, really painful memories, of the time when his world had still been spinning on its axis. Carefree, that's what they all had been. Alive, most importantly.

With those heavy thoughts on his mind, Remus dragged himself downstairs into the kitchen for breakfast. He was just finishing his second cup of tea when the door opened and Kingsley stepped into the room. The Auror looked as if he had been through a hard night, his eyes were bloodshot and his robes were crumpled. The same robes he had been wearing the previous evening, Remus noticed. Kingsley made a beeline for the coffeepot, then he sank down into the chair across from Remus with a weary sigh.

"Hard night?", Remus asked. Kingsley took a deep gulp of the coffee, closed his eyes for a moment, then he slowly nodded.

"Awfully boring. I had the nightshift guarding Sirius' room. Not that there's much to do, mind you. The healers come in twice a day to give Sirius potions, the nurses come six times a day to check in on him. And the nightshift starts after the last nurse check ups at six and eight, so basically I spent my night sitting in an empty corridor, staring at the wall and trying not to fall asleep."

"I hope you have at least the day off now."

Kingsley nodded. "Until four in the afternoon, then it's back to the Ministry for me. I'm going to hit the bed as soon as I've eaten something."

He drained his coffee, got up and prepared himself a sandwich which he carried over towards the table.

"I've got some not so good news, I'm afraid."

"Is something wrong with Sirius?"

Kingsley quickly shook his head. "No, nothing happened. But I talked to his healers this morning."

Remus frowned. "They talked to you about his condition?"

Kingsley shrugged. "Officially, now that he reappeared, I'm still in charge of the investigation concerning him. Got even pulled off my new assignment for it."

"What did the healers say?"

"That by now all the mind-healers St. Mungo's employs have had thorough looks at him. Obviously, he's some sort of test-case for everybody who wants to have a shot at treating him. They seem pretty clueless, if I'm honest."

"What are they going to do?"

"Nothing much, I'm afraid. They said that as far as their examinations show, they cannot come up with a way to cause a change in Sirius' condition."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that they'll keep him in St. Mungo's for the time being, but that for now they cannot do anything for him."

"They haven't given him up after just a few days already?"

Kingsley shrugged. "I wouldn't say that they've given him up. So far, nothing they've tried has yielded any results, but that doesn't mean they won't keep on trying. They said that cases of what was the word they used for it? _Mental retreat_, that was it. They said those were either caused by psychological trauma after which the patient withdraws in himself to protect himself from what happened. Or it could be due to magical influence, and that would mean the healers have to counter whatever magic caused the condition in the first place. Obviously, they tried every approach they could think of, everything they had used in previous cases similar to Sirius'. With no success. As of now, they're stalling and don't admit just how clueless they are, but let's face the obvious. Whatever worked on other patients didn't work on Sirius. And the longer his condition is going to last, the more we're heading to the conclusion that it might be a permanent condition. And there is the chance that whatever Snape did to bring him back hasn't brought him back entirely. In that case, I doubt that anybody will find a way to bring him back."

A flood of unpleasant images entered Remus' mind at those words. Sirius, lying in that ward in St. Mungo's for weeks, or maybe even longer. Healers pretending to treat him, when in all honesty they were only prolonging the admission that there was nothing they could do to save him. And finally, when the admission had inevitably come, Sirius would spend the rest of his days in a nursing home or some similar place, staring sightlessly up to the ceiling until his body followed to wherever his mind had retreated.

Remus shook his head as if physically chasing away those thoughts. He would not allow that. He simply refused to allow that.

"I'm no healer, so correct me if I'm wrong. But the possible reasons for Sirius' state are limited. Either something went wrong during the process of bringing him back and he didn't return entirely. Or Severus managed to bring him back, and he has for some reason withdrawn into himself, so far that the healers cannot manage to coax him back out with whatever they tried."  
Kingsley thought about that for a moment. "I'm no healer either. It sounds logical enough to me, but if people who have studied cases like these cannot come up with an explanation or a way to cure him, I don't really know how far logical reasoning will bring us."

Remus downed the last of his tea and put the cup into the sink, together with his empty breakfast plate. He turned towards the door.

"Well, if those healers can't find a way to bring Sirius back, then somebody else will have to do it."

"What are you planning to do?"

Remus stopped on his way to the door. "Everything I can to do achieve just that. Bringing Sirius back."

Kingsley had a disbelieving expression on his face, but he didn't say anything as Remus turned and left the kitchen.

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Like during the day before, Harry went to visit Sirius at St. Mungo's. Fortunately, the other inhabitants of Grimmauld Place seemed to have understood Harry's desire to see his godfather, and he no longer needed to ask for being brought to the hospital. The visits were arranged at the Ministry, and somebody brought Harry to the hospital to see Sirius. Mostly that was Mr. Weasley, or Bill and Charlie. Order members who could be seen in his presence without appearing to be suspicious And whenever Kingsley was on guard duty in front of Sirius' room, Harry did his best to pretend that he didn't know the Auror. Life was complicated.

When Harry came into the basement kitchen, Remus had already left, and Kingsley had gone upstairs to grab a few hours of sleep before he had to return to duty. When he came down, Bill and Charlie were sitting at the table, talking to Dung. All three looked up as Harry entered.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Harry. Breakfast is on the stove, we should leave in about half an hour."

Harry nodded and filled a plate with porridge, though he was not particularly hungry. As he sat down opposite of Dung, the man looked up at him from blood-shot eyes.

"All right, Potter?"

Harry shrugged and swallowed his porridge. "For now. What brings you here?"

Dung shrugged. "I have to see a man about a…about business later today, and I thought I'd make a short stop here to see what was up. And you? Going to visit Sirius, from what I hear?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Maybe he's doing better today."

"Maybe", Dung said, but his voice indicated that he didn't quite believe in that possibility. Harry ignored him and spooned down his porridge without tasting anything. When he was finished and had emptied his second cup of tea, he, Bill and Charlie set out for St. Mungo's.

It was always the same procedure. Somebody made sure that the floo connection was safe and that no ugly surprises would await somebody who wanted to use it, then somebody went through to secure Harry's arrival, followed by Harry and somebody else to cover their backs. Harry didn't particularly care for those security measures, but he guessed that they were necessary. Necessary for someone who was Harry Potter, that is.

Bill went first, followed by Harry and Charlie. Nobody in the entrance hall of St. Mungo's paid any special notice to them as they cleared the soot off their clothes and turned towards the staircase. It was always a strange feeling to walk through the hospital, amidst all those people with their different purposes for being here, purposes not unlike Harry's own. It was a strange realisation that there were others who worried about a loved one. Others for whom Sirius' name was nothing but the memory of a gruesome murderer. Harry didn't like those feelings one bit, he didn't like to be torn between sympathy for the other visitors here, and anger at them because they only worried about their own lives and were not one bit concerned one bit about the fact that another person's life had been ruined. An innocent person, a good person, whom they had branded as a murderer and betrayer. And even now nobody seemed to care that he ever existed. Not the people who didn't know him, and neither most of those who knew him. And that hurt.

Bill and Charlie didn't talk very much as they went up to Sirius' ward. It wasn't that they had nothing to say to each other, but rather that those visits in St. Mungo's – like visits to hospitals in general – had a subduing effect. This time, Harry didn't know the two Aurors who guarded Sirius' room. Kingsley didn't seem to be on duty, and none of the other Aurors Harry had already seen here was there, either. Not that Harry cared much who it was who searched him for weapons and gave him the lecture about what and what he was not allowed to do during his visit. Bill and Charlie remained out in the corridor with the two Aurors, and with a rapidly beating heart, the teenager opened the door and entered Sirius' room.

Maybe. Maybe today things were different. Just maybe.

Harry couldn't help getting his hopes up that maybe today was the day that Sirius would be sitting up in his bed, smiling at him as he entered. There was no worse feeling than that of having his hopes smashed as soon as he looked at the bed. Sirius was not awake, he was not sitting up in bed, and neither did he show any sign of recognition as Harry stepped up to the bed. He was lying there just like he had done during Harry's previous visits – eyes open, unmoving, staring unfocusedly ahead at the ceiling. Breathing and blinking occasionally, but otherwise there was no sign that he was alive.

Harry walked up to the bed on wobbly legs, pulled up a chair and sat down. He took Sirius' limp hand between his own and squeezed it tightly. No reaction.

"Hello Sirius, it's me. Harry."

Keeping up a one-sided conversation was not easy without feeling stupid doing it, but Harry kept on telling himself that somewhere deep down, Sirius knew he was there. Sirius heard him, and he understood.

"I hope you're doing better. It's not as if anybody was telling me what the healers say about you, but I really hope you'll be better soon." He drew a deep breath. "There isn't much of the holidays left, and if you're still in here when I have to go back to Hogwarts, I won't be able to visit you anymore. At least not every day. And you know how much of a fuss they sometimes make about me to _keep me safe_, I don't know just how difficult it will become to get here to St. Mungo's. Though if I ask Remus, he'll surely help me."

Sirius blinked, but it was one of those reflexive blinks, nothing that even the most deluded person could have mistaken for an attempt to communicate wordlessly.

"I've had a talk with Remus yesterday. I…He is always trying to make sure that I'm all right. It's a good feeling to know that somebody cares. But I'm worried about him, as well. Yesterday evening, he told me a bit about you, and your time together at Hogwarts, to cheer me up, but I think it was really hard on him. He was so sad and resigned, as if everything that counted in his life lay in the past. I…there are moments when I can understand that feeling, but I'm worried that he can't feel any differently anymore. He needs you back just as much as I do, you know? And even if we two are the only ones who still give a damn, shouldn't that be enough for you to come back? Please, we need you."

Harry resolutely wiped a hand over his eyes, even though Sirius wouldn't have noticed it if he had been bawling his eyes out at the moment. But still he didn't want to sit here and cry.

"My O.W.L. results should come any day now", he said, searching for a topic that increased the level of normality in this already strange conversation. "Not that I worry overly much about them, but I have to make up my mind about next year's classes before the term starts. I guess I'll talk to Ron, ask him what classes he takes, then I'll talk to Remus. If anybody, he should know. Being a teacher and all, I mean." He paused for a moment. "I really don't understand why he can't come back and teach at Hogwarts. He really was the only decent Defence teacher we've ever had. All right, a lot of people are prejudiced against werewolves, but still. I think most of the parents might be convinced that he's no threat to anybody if he takes his potion. Most of the students I can think of don't mind it, he's just too good of a teacher. He's patient, he takes the time to explain things to every student. And he gives nobody the feeling that he's stupid, or incapable, like Snape does. I've asked myself whether he always wanted to become a teacher. I don't know, he just seemed so…at home at it. As if it was all he ever wanted to do. And he had this briefcase with _Professor_ on it, even before he came to Hogwarts." He laughed harshly. "I should probably ask Remus himself, shouldn't I? It's just…well, I know that he didn't want to leave Hogwarts, wouldn't have gone had Snape not told everybody about his lycanthropy. And I know how difficult it is for him to find a job, so I guess I don't want to tear open any wounds. I don't want to make him uncomfortable by talking about it."

Again, he squeezed his godfather's hand tightly, forcing himself to consciously notice the warmth of his skin, to make himself aware of Sirius being alive, despite everything that spoke against it. Sirius was alive. He would come back.

"I don't sleep overly well since the night we brought you back. I told Remus about it, and he said it might be connected to what I did that night. If you were here you maybe could tell me more. I think – and I haven't told Remus that – I think those dreams are about being _there_, and they're not good. Maybe you would know how to make them go away. You're the only one who has been there as well. Aside from Snape, but I can't ask him about it. He probably won't even talk to me. He's angry that he had to come after me into the Department of Mysteries. But you'll probably understand better than anybody why I can't ask him about the nightmares. It's not that they're even really nightmares, I can't really say what they are, but something about them scares me badly. When I get back to Hogwarts, I should probably ask Madam Pomfrey if she knows what can be done against them, because slowly I could do with a night of uninterrupted sleep." He sighed. "But what I want most is to have you back, Sirius. I want you back, please. I can do with sleeping awfully bad for the rest of my life, but I want you back. Just for once I want things to be normal. Please."

He squeezed Sirius' hand again, and his heart sank as he heard the door behind him being opened.

"Mr. Potter? Your time is up."

Without turning around, Harry nodded and got up from his chair. "I'll come back tomorrow. Bye, Sirius."

He gave his godfather an awkward and unanswered hug, then he turned around and left the room. Bill was waiting outside, leaning against the wall. Seeing that Harry came out of the room, he stepped up beside him and wordlessly waited until Harry had signed out and his wand had been handed back to him. Then they went down the corridor towards the staircase.

"Charlie is waiting downstairs for us. He found out that a former classmate is working as a nurse here, and stopped by to chat."

Harry nodded and for a few moments, they walked in silence.

"Did anything change about Sirius' condition?"

Harry shook his head and bit his lower lip to keep the emotions from overwhelming him.

"No", he croaked out, more shaky than he had wanted it to sound. "He's still the same."

"The healers here are good. They'll figure something out."

Harry only nodded, and Bill seemingly understood that he wasn't up for conversation right now. They descended the stairs in silence and reached the foyer. They quickly found Charlie, leaning against the counter behind which the nurse who handled the new admittances sat. The two of them were chatting amicably, but when Charlie saw them approach, he said a few quick sentences to the nurse, flashed a smile, and came over towards them.

"Everything all right?", he asked as he reached them, the smile somewhat vanished from his face.

Harry nodded.

"Sirius?"

Harry shrugged. "Still the same."

Charlie's face twisted into something that might have been the attempt at an encouraging smile, but it wasn't entirely convincing. They turned towards the public fireplaces and Charlie put a hand between Harry's shoulder blades and gently steered him. Bill went first, then Harry stepped into the flames and flooed away, followed by Charlie. Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry felt a little disoriented. The important part of the day was over, and now he'd need to find something to occupy himself with so that he wouldn't start brooding again. But searching for distractions didn't turn out to be half as easy as it sounded, as Harry had learned over the past days. Bill and Charlie both fetched themselves something to drink and settled at the kitchen table, and Harry seized this chance for distraction, fetched himself a glass of pumpkin juice and sat down with them.

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Libraries sucked. Coming from Remus Lupin, this was a statement of revolutionary content, but this day he would have signed any statement proclaiming this notion. Libraries sucked. He had never before experienced the feeling that there was nothing, absolutely nothing helpful to be found anywhere, nothing that would have helped him to understand what was going on with Sirius and how he could make right what had gone wrong. But by now, Remus had leafed through everything about Necromantic rites he could lay his hands on, had been to the Hogwarts library, the British Wizarding Library which was to be found in the hidden wing of the British Museum in London, and had even made a detour to Paris to spend four fruitless hours of research in the Bibliothèque Nationale de la Magie, the biggest wizarding library in all of Europe. Short of closing in on the smaller, more obscure libraries he knew of, he was feeling helpless.

The way back to England from France was a lengthy floo travel from public fireplace to public fireplace during which he had enough time to think about the fact that he had no idea what to do next. The last part of the trip was supposed to take him from Hogwarts back to Grimmauld Place, using the safe floo connection that now existed between the school and headquarters. But as he stepped into the flames and called out his destination, nothing happened. With a sigh, he climbed out of the fireplace again. Somebody was having a conversation via the floo at headquarters, so he'd have to wait until they were finished before he could floo there. He pointed his wand at the fireplace and cast a quick spell which would turn the flames green as soon as the connection to Grimmauld Place was available again.

With a sigh Remus turned away from the fireplace and dusted his robes off with another flick of his wand. He had flooed to the antechamber of the Great Hall, the fireplace that most of the Order members used when they detoured over Hogwarts on their way to Grimmauld Place. Nothing much in here to occupy himself with while passing his time, though. Nothing much but staring out of the window, so he went over to the small plane of glass and looked out at the grounds. It wasn't a great view, either, from here he could only see a very small edge of the lake, still in the summer afternoon. In the distance the Forbidden Forest was looming darkly despite the sunlight, and else Remus' view was filled by a blue sky above and green lawns descending from the castle towards the forest. The view served to occupy Remus for exactly a minute, then he turned around and checked the fire. Still occupied.

For a lack of anything better to do, Remus inspected his tattered robes, checking whether he had missed some spots of soot earlier. None that he could find on his clothes, but on the back of his hand. Instead of using his wand for that little spot of soot, he pocketed the wand again and rubbed over the smear of black with the thumb of his other hand. It came off easily, revealing the thin white line that was the scar reminding him of that fateful night which had set everything that had happened during the past weeks into motion. The scar that was the sole visible reminder of the blood bond he shared with Sirius.

Remus froze.

A thin line across the back of his hand, a bit more than two inches long. But a scar which no healer was able to erase, because the wound had been part of a magical connection. A connection to Sirius. One of the strongest bonds known to the wizarding world, and it connected him to Sirius.

It couldn't be, could it? Why hadn't he thought about it before?

He kept staring at the back of his hand for the next couple of minutes, as if it could tell him the answers to all the questions in the universe.

He had read up on blood bonds after discovering that he might share one with Sirius, he should have seen this possibility before. But of course back then he had searched for a general way to bring Sirius back and had found none. But shouldn't it be possible? Of course, if Sirius' soul had remained behind the veil and only his body had come back, there was probably no way to change Sirius' condition, blood bond or not. That was a realisation Remus had put away from his consciousness for the past days because he had not wanted to accept its reality. But if he had for some reason withdrawn into himself, if his experiences behind the veil caused the _mental retreat_ the healers had talked about to Kingsley, then couldn't the blood bond be a chance to bring Sirius out of his retreat?

Forgetting all about his intention to floo back to Grimmauld Place, Remus left the ante-chamber and hurried up to the library again. Maybe libraries didn't suck that much after all.

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The following evening, an unsuspecting nurse went down a lone corridor in St. Mungo's, one of the few corridors in the hospital which wasn't occupied. Not occupied except from the single room at the end of the corridor, in front of which two Aurors sat on guard duty. Even at night at least one Auror was there, and nobody could enter the ward without signing in. The nurse wasn't used to these procedures, it was not a practice that was usual at St. Mungo's, yet during the past days everybody who was working on this floor had been forced to get used to. It wasn't everyday that the hospital was treating Ministry prisoners, after all.

One of the Aurors looked up as she approached the desk, but after checking her name-tag and the time, he let her sign the register.

"I hadn't even realised that it was already eight", the Auror said. The nurse only laughed.

"Fortunately. My shift ends at half past, and I doubt I could stay here for any longer. I've been on a double shift, it's quite enough for one day."

The Auror smiled sympathetically. "Know what you mean, I got the night shift later. Well, let me know if anything about his condition has changed."

The nurse nodded and entered the ward. She couldn't imagine that anything had changed about the man's condition, there had been no sign indicating anything would happen anytime soon. Sirius Black. Of course the nurse knew him, had heard the stories, and every time she entered she could feel a small shudder run down her spine. As lethargic as the man was now, it was hard to imagine that he had committed all the crimes he had been accused of, but she should never forget that he was a dangerous man. So she quickly but thoroughly went through the evening routines of controlling Black's vitals, actualising the notes on his patient's file, checking the monitoring charms. Once all that was done, she breathed an inaudible sigh of relief and left the room, heading towards home and her well-earned night off.

The room remained silent for ten minutes after the nurse had left, the only sounds being the very low sounds of breathing coming form the bed. Then, suddenly, there was the rustle of fabric in one corner of the room, and Remus Lupin was standing right where only a moment before an empty corner had been.

Remus wasn't sure whether he was doing the right thing. Absolutely not. But fact was, he didn't have any alternative. Nothing about Sirius' condition had improved, and the healers didn't know what to do to trigger an improvement in his condition. Which meant effectively that they had given him up. Nobody said so as of yet, but seeing that there was nothing they could do for him, he'd keep on vegetating in his momentary state from now until doomsday. And that was something Remus would not accept. Not if there was something he could do.

He had researched blood bonds as thoroughly as it had been possible since the idea had crossed his mind the day before. He had searched specifically for ways in which a blood bond between two wizards could be actively used and manipulated. The literature had not exactly been plenty, but it had given him an insight into the potential of this kind of bond. And basically, he didn't know if he could make matters worse with what he was about to do. Probably nothing could be worse than Sirius' momentary condition, nothing except from death. And death at least would be a final answer.

So Remus had spent his day in the Hogwarts library, had spent a few restless hours of sleep at Grimmauld Place, had set out for Hogwarts again to make the last preparations, then he had come to hospital and waited until after dinnertime. Not that Sirius was a recipient of dinner. He was given nourishing potions twice a day, that was all. There was a regular check-up at four in the afternoon, and then the nurses came by for another round at six and eight o'clock each. Fortunately, Kingsley had provided that information, unknowing what Remus would use it for. Remus had waited for that last round, hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak. Actually, Kingsley had given that to him with the purpose that Remus returned it to Harry. Seemingly, Dung had _re-organised_ the cloak he had accidentally _misplaced_ some time ago, and knowing that Harry might wand the cloak back, Kingsley had given it to Remus. He'd return it tomorrow, for tonight he had had use for it. Harry would understand.

When the nurse had entered Sirius' ward, Remus had slid in behind her, silently and invisibly waiting in the corner of the room until she had checked Sirius' status, had written something onto the clipboard-chart that was hooked to the foot-end of the bed, had checked the monitoring spells on Sirius and left. Remus had let another ten minutes pass until he was sure that the typical early night of a hospital had settled over St. Mungo's, then he prepared to begin.

He locked the door to Sirius' ward, though that would not keep anybody from coming into the room for too long. But Remus felt more confident that way. Then he folded the invisibility cloak, put it on a chair, pulled the knife he had brought from Grimmauld Place out of his pocket along with a piece of cloth and stepped up to the bed. Sirius was lying motionlessly on the bed, like he had done for the previous days. No change at all. He was still staring unfocusedly ahead at whatever it was that he was seeing. Probably nothing, but there was no way of telling.

Remus' hands were actually shaking slightly as he pulled down the covers to Sirius' waist and revealed the scar that ran across his belly just underneath his navel. If only he could be sure that this was the right thing to do. He wasn't sure, there was no sort of scientific proof that what he was planning would yield any result. The only reason on which he founded what he was about to do was a bit more than a day of researches and the strongest gut feeling he had ever had. Something inside of him was convinced that the only way to bring Sirius back was through the blood bond. And as there was no way for Remus to access the bond, he'd simply have to…reopen it and see where that would take him.

Remus didn't know if he had to reopen their wounds from the night the blood bond had been forged, but he didn't think that was a necessity. The connection was already in their blood now, to open it again renewed connection of blood should suffice. Which was good, because Remus' wound had been on the back of his hand, and getting that into contact with Sirius' wound would become difficult. Back then, both of them had been bleeding badly, but he didn't intend to give his friend a seriously bleeding wound tonight. The loss of blood would not be critical for either of them. The connection Remus was about to create would be. If Sirius had indeed retreated into his own mind, and if Remus would not manage to bring him back, then it was more than just possible that he would not be able to break the connection again. And if that happened, he'd soon have his own bed on which he could lie next to Sirius, staring up sightlessly at the ceiling.

He thought for a moment longer, then he pulled the blanket up again and picked up Sirius' hand. The knife he held in his other hand, and for a moment he battled down his hesitations and fears. He had to do this, he had to try and bring his friend back. There was no time for worrying now.

"I don't want to hurt you, Padfoot", he whispered to his friend and squeezed his hand tightly. "But we need you back. So please forgive me."

With a last breath to steel himself, Remus sat down on the mattress beside Sirius, knife in one hand. Before he could think about it again and possibly even change his mind, he ran the sharp blade of the knife across the palm of his right hand, creating a cut that wasn't too deep, but that bled freely for now. Immediately, blood started welling up from the cut. Remus stared at the crimson droplets for a few seconds, then he turned towards Sirius and ran the blade along the inside of the hand he was holding. Hopefully, Sirius was not losing enough blood to trigger any of the monitoring charms the healers had placed on Sirius. But that was beyond Remus' influence now.

Remus quickly put the knife away onto the bedside table and intertwined the fingers of his right hand with those of Sirius' left, pressing the bleeding cuts together. His own fingers were holding on tightly to Sirius' pale hand, but Sirius' fingers limply hung between Remus' own, applying absolutely no pressure. Well, hoping for an instant reaction would have been deluded. Remus took the piece of cloth and awkwardly tied it around their intertwined hands as tightly as he could, reassuring himself that their hands would stay the way they were now even in case his strength to hold on to the grip of his hand ran out.

That was it. No way back now. Remus could only hope that he was not about to commit the greatest mistake of his life. But right now there was no time for those contemplations. Right now he needed to focus on solely one thing. Sirius. There was nothing more important now than Sirius.

Remus breathed in deeply, very deeply, and closed his eyes.


	43. Promises Fulfilled

**Chapter 43 – Promises Fulfilled**

Harry had not seen much of Remus all day. From all he knew, Remus was still researching possible ways to bring Sirius back. He had been doing that for the past two days, but so far Harry had heard nothing that would suggest that he had found out anything.

Not finding out anything also seemed what the healers at St. Mungo's were stuck at. Harry had visited Sirius again this afternoon, and his godfather had been exactly the same than during Harry's other visits. Not reacting to anything, staring sightlessly ahead, giving no sign that he was aware of Harry's presence. Harry had been glad upon finding Ron and Tonks in the kitchen upon returning from the hospital with Bill and Mr. Weasley, because their presence had stopped him from returning to his room and brooding about how shitty life was treating him at the moment. Instead, he had remained downstairs until long after dinner, chatting with Tonks, playing chess with Ron and a round of Exploding Snape with everybody who had remained in the kitchen after dinner. It was nearly nine when he and Ron went upstairs. They didn't intend to go to bed yet, of course, but Tonks had left after their game was finished to sleep off the after-effects of a double shift at the Ministry, and Mrs. and Mr. Weasley had also called it an early night.

Ron was still wiping the remaining soot off his face. He had not exactly been lucky during the game of Exploding Snap earlier, and the last deck had blown up right into his face. A sooty smear was still running across his nose, and so far he had missed it while rubbing his face clean. It looked rather funny, so Harry had no intention of telling Ron about it for now.

They entered their room, and while Ron picked up his broom catalogue again, Harry let himself fall onto his bed with a sigh.

"You're not tired already, are you?"

Harry shrugged and turned around, but stopped himself before he answered. Something had rustled in his bed as he had turned, and now that he had turned, he could see the end of an envelope sticking out from underneath his pillow. Frowning, Harry sat up and pulled the envelope out.

"What's that?", Ron asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen it before."

His name had been written onto the envelope with black ink, and Harry recognised the handwriting immediately.

"It's from Remus. I just don't know why he should leave me a letter and not just tell me whatever it is." Harry quickly opened the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. As he unfolded it and began to read, Ron sat down next to him and looked over his shoulder.

_Dear Harry,_

_first of all, I'm sorry for taking your invisibility cloak. Until now you probably didn't know it, but Kingsley gave it to me this morning with the request to return it to you. However, I found that I had use for it today and will hopefully return it tomorrow._

_I'm also sorry that you have to get to know about what I intend to know this way. I did not want to exclude you from it, but there was neither the time to explain, nor could I risk running into something or somebody who would delay me, so I had to keep my earlier visit to Grimmauld Place as short as possible._

_At this moment, I'm at St. Mungo's, in Sirius' ward. Which would explain the need for your invisibility cloak. I do not want you to get your hopes up too high, I am by no means sure that I have found a way to bring Sirius back, but I have stumbled across something which I cannot ignore. I doubt that I can make Sirius' situation any worse, yet I hope that if the blood-bond I share with Sirius was strong enough to keep him alive for over two months, it might also serve to bring him back. If what I intend to do does not work out – which is indeed possible, even likely – then I will at the very least have to face consequences for intruding into the hospital like I did. Which is the main reason why I didn't tell you anything about what I was planning to do._

_I don't know when you will find this letter, but it is of utmost importance that you do not alarm anybody to what I am doing. Either it will work, or it will not work. But given just the slight chance that this is indeed a possibility to bring Sirius back, I cannot risk any interruption._

_I'm sorry that I could not tell you about it personally, but there simply was not enough time. As soon as I am able to give word, you will be the first to know of what happened. Just wait in the kitchen for news, if you are able to do so without arousing suspicion._

_I promised you I'd do anything to bring him back, rest assured that I take this promise seriously. I hope you forgive me for not informing you earlier._

_Remus_

When Harry had finished reading the letter, he let it sink down and looked at Ron. Ron was looking back with an unbelieving gaze.

"What is he doing?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. He says something about using the blood bond, but I really don't know what exactly it is that he's doing."

He folded the letter, put it back into the envelope and placed it back under the pillow. Then he got up from the bed and walked over towards the door.

"Where are you going?", Ron asked.

"Into the kitchen, waiting for Remus' call", Harry said, then he vanished. Ron sighed, then he got up from the bed and followed Harry downstairs.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus had lost all sense of space and time. He didn't know when it had started. At one moment, he had been aware of his position on Sirius' bed, pressing the bleeding cuts on their hands together, the next there had been a tingling sensation in his right arm, quickly spreading up into his shoulder, chest, neck and head. And from that moment on, the normal rules had no longer had any value.

He couldn't even describe where he was, or if there was any _where_. Of course, he was sitting on Sirius' bed, in the hospital ward at St. Mungo's. Only, he wasn't sitting on the bed. He wasn't anywhere, no space, no time, nothing. Just emptiness. Empty like the shell of Sirius' body that lay under his hands.

A small, sickly feeling was forming in the pit of his stomach. This could not be, he could not have been so wrong. The blood bond must be the way to bring Sirius back, there simply was no other alternative. What if Sirius was gone for good, what if this was just how it was supposed to be? What if there was nothing to save, if he was chasing an illusion? Fear took a hold on him, stronger than he had ever experienced it before. Where was the way back? Was there a way back? Where was Sirius, how was he supposed to find him? There was only nothingness around him, a giant vastness in which Remus suddenly felt small, insignificant.

Lost.

Panicked, Remus turned into one direction, then the other, stormed forward, to the left, back, to the right. But everywhere there was only darkness. Only darkness, nothing.

Lost.

He had gotten lost. He was here, alone, and he would never find Sirius. Never. He was lost.

Calm. He needed to calm himself. This would not lead anywhere if he panicked now. He needed to keep his wits, then a solution would find itself. He just needed to find Sirius. Sirius had to be somewhere. He didn't know how, but if he only focussed enough on Sirius, then their bond should take him to his friend. Shouldn't it? For all he knew, what he was about to do was absolutely useless. He _didn't_ know anything for sure, that was his problem.

Calm down.

Easier said than done. Much easier. Even after he had fought down the initial panic, his heart was beating at twice its usual pace. Right, focus on Sirius. Focus on Sirius. On Sirius alone.

That was when the first thing shot past Remus' head. Panicked, he turned his head, his hand automatically reaching for his wand – as if he could use magic here. As if he even _had_ a wand here. Physically, he was still sitting on Sirius' bed, and that was where his wand was. Great. And it was no curse that had shot past him. All he saw was a white shadow brushing past him, only to vanish as quickly as it had come. An icy gush of air brushed his cheek, and even as he brought up a hand and swirled around, another white shadow shot past him, and another and another. Faceless white shadows, leaving nothing but icy numbness in their wake, and though Remus could not see them clearly, he knew that they were all around him. All around him and closing in. Closing in on him.

"What are you?", Remus yelled into the darkness, but his voice was drowned out before it even reached his own ears.

"What do you want?"

Still, he received no answer. Nothing. The darkness around him swallowed up every sound that didn't come from within, the only thing Remus could hear was the frantic beating of his own heart, loud and much too fast. Else, there was nothing to hear here, nothing to see. Except from more and more shadows, all brushing past him, coming closer and closer, watching him. Lurking. Biding their time.

Remus took a few careful steps, not really knowing where he was going, if he was getting anywhere actually. But he couldn't just stay in one place and wait for something to happen. Just as he made another step forward, he saw movement in his peripheral vision and turned around abruptly. Nothing. Only darkness, all around him. He turned back and took another step. Nothing happened. Another step, then one more, and another. Still, nothing happened. His mind must have been playing ticks on him, Remus decided. And just as he had accepted that explanation, he saw it again, this time to his left. Heart beating fast in his throat, Remus turned around. There was something, a shadow which was a different colour than the surrounding darkness. As if somebody was standing there, watching him. Hesitantly, Remus made a step into the direction of the shadow.

The closer he came, the more clearly he could distinguish the shape in front of the surrounding blackness. It was the figure of a man standing there, wearing dark blue robes. He had black hair which was standing off his head in wild angles, his face was pale, and the colour of his eyes was indistinguishable behind the wire-rimmed glasses that seemed to reflect a light, light which wasn't there. Remus stopped short.

"James?"

The figure had been standing with his side turned to Remus, and upon hearing his voice he turned. It was James, and seeing him here confused Remus to no end. What did that mean?

"James?", he asked again. James smiled and raised a hand in greeting. Remus' body had a mind of its own, and without him consciously realising it, he started walking towards the image in front of him. And just as he was approaching, there was a sudden burst of green light shooting towards James, evolving him for a moment before releasing his suddenly limp form to drop to the floor.

"No!"

Remus started running as fast as he could, but it was as if some invisible force was pulling James away at the same speed. He could not reach his friend, could not get to his side. All he could do was stare down at James' broken form on the ground, a look of utter astonishment on his face, his glasses cracked, the paleness on his face now a greyish shade of death.

"James!", Remus screamed, but there was no sound coming out of his mouth. He stopped running, and suddenly James was gone. From one moment to the next, there was only darkness where his friend's body had been lying. Still not knowing what exactly it was that was happening here, Remus turned. He was panting, sweat was trickling off his forehead, ad yet he was feeling chilled, as if there was a cold wind blowing towards him. Why had he seen James here, why had he seen James die? What did his long-deceased friend have to do with all this?

Remus no longer knew where he had begun his journey into Sirius' mind, and he no longer thought it mattered. He took a step into the direction he was facing and tried to clear his mind. Seeing James like that had disturbed him, but as cruel as that sounded, he needed to focus on Sirius now. Nothing else mattered, just finding Sirius.

But it was as if some cruel deity was playing director in a theatre-piece of her own making, switching on light-switches and presenting Remus with images he could not ignore, no matter how hard he tried. James had only been the beginning. The slow beginning.

From out of nowhere, suddenly Remus found himself standing face to face with Regulus. Of course he had known Sirius' little brother, Regulus had been two years younger than Sirius and there had been five years at Hogwarts during which their paths had crossed nearly daily during mealtimes or in the corridors. Yet after his death so many years ago, Remus had not found himself thinking very often about him. And suddenly he was standing here, right in front of him, far closer than James had stood. Remus stopped short, gasping, not knowing what to say or do. But Regulus only smiled, a smile which made cold shivers run down Remus' spine, and he slowly raised his left arm, pulling back the sleeve of his robe.

The dark mark stood out clearly against Regulus' pale skin, the dark skull stretched across the arm so that it seemingly grinned at Remus, mocked him for something Remus didn't know or understand. And Regulus was still smiling that strange, silent smile, as the mark began pulsing, a heartbeat of its own, a sound that threatened to deafen Remus with its horrible beat. Regulus' form was just a blurred image in front of Remus' eyes, and suddenly he was gone. Somewhere in the distance, a pale body was lying on the ground, covered up to his waist by a green paper sheet the likes of which hospitals used. His upper body was bare, and Remus could clearly see the Dark Mark, the same Dark Mark which had just been pulsing, on the deathly waxen skin of the left forearm.

In the distance, a woman was screaming. Lily. Then silence. A baby wailing, somewhere to his left. And then there was Remus himself, surrounded by a group of hooded men in dark robes, looking into the wands of the Death Eaters who had him cornered.

A flash of green light, and Harry was lying on the ground, arms and legs held at an unnatural angle, his glasses askew and a thin line of blood running from the scar on his forehead. Somewhere in the background, Remus' own voice was yelling that this was all Sirius' fault, that he had caused all this, that he had betrayed them all so badly. Harry's eyes were open, unseeing and dead, directed into the darkness above him. Lily was crying, and now James was screaming, accusing somebody of being his murderer. Peter was laughing, squeaking like a rat.

It was all too much, Remus sank down to his knees and pressed his hands to his ears. It did nothing to drown out the sounds, the voices, and no matter that he closed his eyes, the images remained. Regulus. James. Lily. Remus himself. Peter. Harry.

Harry. Something about the way Harry was lying there. The way his dead eyes were staring to the ceiling, it looked so horribly similar to the way Sirius was staring sightlessly ahead in his hospital bed.

Sirius.

Suddenly Remus understood what this was. Those shadows. The dead loved ones. The fears. Why they wouldn't go away, why they wouldn't leave him alone. Wouldn't leave Sirius alone. Dementors had the power to conjure up the worst memories in a person. Dementors came from the void. The void could do something like that to a person.

Breathing heavily, Remus realised that he still had his hands pressed flat against his ears. He let them sink down, then got to his feet again.

"Leave me alone!", he yelled into the darkness, but to no avail. Those things, were they his own creations, or were they haunting Sirius? Did it matter? Sirius was hiding from them, they had to be the reason why he didn't return. They kept him from returning. He needed to find Sirius, and he needed to bring him back.

"Leave me alone", he said again, more lowly this time, and then he turned his eyes to the floor and looked at nothing except from the ground on which he placed his feet. His mind was racing, he could have curled up somewhere to cry, but he forced himself to think only of one thing – Sirius.

Those things were still there, they were still brushing past him. He could still hear the voices of his friends – of Sirius' friends, could still hear the screams and the crying. They were trying to distract him, they were trying to keep him from reaching Sirius. Sirius was out of the void, but his mind had not yet realised that. He was still allowing those things to haunt him, he needed somebody else to chase them away and bring him back.

The shadows were closing in more and more, threatening Remus, tearing at him, drawing from him. But he pushed them away as good as he could, tried to ignore the cold and the numbness, the screams, the pain and the exhaustion.

Sirius. That was all that counted. Somehow, he'd have to find Sirius.

How?

Focus, Remus. Focus. Sirius had withdrawn into himself, and that meant he had to be here somewhere. Unless he had become one of those shapeless shadows which were all around Remus, spreading cold and numbness. But that could not be, could it? Remus positively _hated_ knowing so little about a situation into which he had manoeuvred himself, especially since it was so important that he succeeded. Important to him, but most of all important to Harry. Harry needed Sirius back, so Remus had to succeed. For Harry.

It was like trying to swim in a lake of treacle in the middle of the night. Remus couldn't see anything, he didn't hear anything. Everything was dark, only interrupted by the occasional bright flash of one of those things brushing past Remus, but despite their presence Remus felt utterly alone. If this was what the void had been like, Remus was not at all surprised that Sirius had retreated this far into himself. He didn't know right now for how much longer he could stand the tension, the feeling of being watched by those things, not knowing whether watching was all they were doing or whether they were only waiting for something to happen. For the moment to strike.

Remus chased those thoughts away and tried to calm the beating of his heart and his rapid breathing.

Sirius. Nothing else counted at the moment. Just Sirius.

"Sirius?"

Just why he had suddenly felt the urge to call out for his friend, Remus didn't know. But it had felt like the right thing to do. There was no answer, but Remus knew that Sirius was there. He felt it.

"Sirius? Are you there?"

Still no answer. But then he saw it. A dark, blurred shape, just ahead, drawn in on itself. Shouldn't it be impossible to see a dark shape in the darkness? Yet suddenly he saw it clearly, without any doubt or mistaking it. A dark shape. But not Sirius. Too small to be Sirius. Too much fur, too many legs.

Padfoot. He was lying curled up in himself, head burrowed between his front paws, whining lowly. Slowly, Remus got to his knees in front of him.

"Padfoot? Padfoot, it's me."

There was no reaction. Somehow, Remus wasn't surprised that upon withdrawing into himself, Sirius had also resorted to withdrawing into his canine alter ego. Padfoot had been what had protected him from the worst of the torture in Azkaban, and even afterwards had been his form of retreat when it all became too much for him. Padfoot's emotions were different from Sirius', the dog could deal far better with situations of extreme stress than Sirius could. Maybe because a canine's emotions were simpler than a human's, different in nature.

"Padfoot, it's Moony. Can you change back please? I will take you home, but for that I need you to change back."

Upon hearing Remus' nickname, Padfoot slowly raised his head. Remus actually flinched as he saw the expression in the icy-blue eyes which were the same icy blue as Sirius'. He had never seen either Sirius or Padfoot express such a degree of fear. Slowly, so as not to startle his friend, Remus stretched out a hand and brought it towards Padfoot's nose.

"It's me. Moony. Please change back."  
Padfoot only whined and buried his nose under his paws again.

"I promise I'll take you home, but I need you to change back for that."

No reaction.

"Padfoot, we need to get back. This is the only chance we'll get. I promise I'll be with you the entire time, but you need to change back. You need to come with me."

For another moment, nothing happened. Then Padfoot's shape began to blur, and Sirius appeared in front of Remus' eyes. A smile crept on Remus' face, but it quickly faded as Sirius pulled up his knees to his chest and hid his face between his legs and his arms.

"Sirius, we need to leave."

"No", was the only answer, Sirius' voice rough.

"Yes, we need to. Quickly. I'll take you home."

"I can't. I…I just can't."

"Those things out there won't hurt you. You're no longer anywhere where they can do you harm. It's not comfortable, but they can't hurt you. I'll see to it that they don't."

"I can't."

"Please Sirius. I need you to do this."

Sirius looked up, staring at Remus with the same scared expression that Padfoot had shown earlier.

"Why?"

"Why? Because I need you to come back entirely. We all do. But mostly, Harry does."

At the mention of his godson's name, something like doubt crept on Sirius' face, and Remus saw that he was fighting an immense struggle against his fears now.

"Harry risked a lot to bring you back. He risked his life, did about a hundred things that were illegal, just to have you back. He needs you. Desperately so. Can you try, for Harry?"

Sirius breathed harshly for a long moment, then he looked up again with something akin to determination in his eyes. Hesitating just for one moment, he took Remus' outstretched hand. Remus pulled him to his feet and attempted a smile.

"We'll get you back, Padfoot. Just hold on to me."

Euphoria filled Remus' chest as he held on tightly to Sirius' hand and started to move backwards. He didn't quite know yet how he was supposed to get both of them back, this whole endeavour had been feel-along all the way, but somehow he'd manage. He'd have to manage. But just as he had taken the first few tentative steps, he stumbled and fell backwards. Something was pulling him, pulling him backwards. He was falling, falling backwards, downwards, he didn't know. Sirius' hand was no longer in his own as he was falling freely, he looked around wildly in search of Sirius, but there was only darkness. He was falling through the darkness, downwards, backwards, falling, and a moment later his head impacted with something hard and everything went dark around him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry was restlessly pacing up and down in front of the fireplace in the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place. He had been pacing for the past thirty minutes now, but at least it served a little bit in getting rid of the tension. He didn't know when Remus had begun with whatever it was he was doing, but slowly he was getting restless. Ron was sitting at the kitchen table, an untouched cup of tea standing in front of him, watching Harry pace up and down.

"He'll let us know as soon as he can", he said for what had to be the tenth or fifteenth time. Harry only nodded distractedly and continued to pace up and down. Ever since he and Ron had come back down, the kitchen had remained empty. Fortunately. At least that way they didn't have to come up with an explanation why they were sitting here as if they were waiting for something.

Harry checked his wristwatch again, cast his eyes towards the still and empty fireplace, then he resumed his pacing again. Ron watched him for a few moments, picked up his cup and drank a gulp of cold tea. Grimacing, he put the cup back down onto the table and settled for the wait.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Voices, that was the first thing Remus became aware of. Loud, hectic voices, all talking at once, too fast for him to make out the words. They were hurting his head, but Remus couldn't do anything to make the voices go away. Nothing. And suddenly he became aware of hands touching him, pulling him this way and that. His right hand was aching something fierce, and somebody was doing something to it. What, Remus could not tell, but if that was the reason for the pain he wanted it to stop. If only he could tell whoever it was to stop, but his voice was not following his brain's command for it to start speaking. Somebody else was slapping his cheeks, not enough to hurt, but strong enough to be noticed as unpleasant.

There was a low, pained groan, and only after a moment Remus realised that it had been he who had uttered the sound. The voices stopped, the pain in his hand did not.

"Remus?"  
Remus knew the voice, just couldn't place it at the moment. He wanted to answer, but all that came out was another low moan.

"Remus, can you hear me?"  
Authoritarian voice. Male. From somewhere, Remus knew it. Instead of answering, Remus opened his eyes. He found Kingsley kneeling next to him, his dark face morphing from a blurred shape into a clear image with an expression of worry clearly discernibly. Looking around, Remus found that his hand was no longer bleeding, and he was obviously lying on the floor. How he had gotten here, Remus didn't quite know. More people were standing at his feet, but they were turned towards Sirius' bed.

Sirius!

Without paying any mind to Kingsley, Remus got to his feet as fast as he could, holding himself steady at the foot end of Sirius' bed to stop from swaying, and tried to get a look at his friend.

Merlin, please make that this has worked. Please. He now remembered clearly what had happened, his desperate attempt to bring Sirius back. But he didn't know if he had managed to bring Sirius back. All he remembered was falling, then nothing.

The healers were crowding around Sirius, monitoring his vitals, treating the wound on his hand which was still bleeding, attempting to shine lights into Sirius' closed eyes. And then something happened that made Remus' heart stop short for a moment. As one healer attempted to pry one of Sirius' eyelids open and shine a light into it, Sirius groaned and turned his head away.

The healers around his bed stopped short with whatever it was they were doing, and Remus seized that moment to push through them and step up to Sirius' side. As he stretched out his hand to reach for Sirius, he for the first time noticed the smears of blood on the back of his hand. He hadn't noticed them before, after cutting himself he had expected his hand to be bleeding. But on the back of his hand there were bloody smears that looked like fingerprints. When Remus had intertwined their hands, Sirius' fingers had been limp, but this looked as if at some point, he had been holding tightly onto Remus' hand. Heart beating fast in his chest, Remus bent over his friend.

"Sirius, can you hear me?"

Sirius gave another groan and tried to move away from the voice, but Remus wouldn't let him. He reached for Sirius' shoulders and shook him slightly.

"Padfoot, can you hear me? Talk to me, come on."

"Let me sleep."

It was low, it sounded grumpy, and it promised horrible retribution to those who didn't follow the command, but it were the sweetest words Remus had heard in a long time. He didn't even notice that there were tears running down his cheeks as he pressed his uninjured palm against Sirius' stubbly cheek and turned his face into his direction.

"No, you've slept for long enough Padfoot, it's time to wake up now."

Slowly, ever so slowly, one blue eye blinked open, followed by another. Sirius stared unfocusedly ahead for a moment, taking in the many shapes bent over him, drifting to and fro between them. Finally his eyes settled on Remus and he frowned.

"Let me sleep, Remus."

Remus laughed, though he was still crying. "No, I bloody well won't let you sleep now. Not for quite a while."

Sirius frowned again, then slowly focussed his eyes on his friend. As his gaze cleared, his expression grew even more confused. "You're crying."

Remus wiped the back of his left hand over his cheeks, but he couldn't care less about whether or not he was crying. He smiled down at Sirius and shook his head.

"Sirius, if you ever do something as nerve-wracking as this again, I don't know what I'll do. I couldn't stand this one more time."

More confusion. "What happened?"

"It's a long story. A very long story."

Sirius frowned again, his eyes straying over all the healers' faces.

"Who are they? Where am I? Where's Harry? What happened?"

"You're at St. Mungo's. Don't ask how you ended here, that's part of the long story. Harry is safe, I'll call him while the healers have a look at you. He'll probably be here faster than you can say Quidditch."

Remus drew a deep, shuddering breath, which only served to heighten Sirius' confusion further, then he bent down and hugged his friend tightly, never minding that one of the healers was still fretting around Sirius, treating the wound on his hand. Sirius hugged back, but it was obvious that he didn't understand.

"What in Merlin's name happened, Remus?"  
"The worst thing that could. You died. Now, let those healers have a look at you, I need to call your godson. I'll be back in five minutes."

Sirius stared after Remus as he hurried out of the room, nearly running. Then he slowly turned his face into the direction of the healer who was treating to his hand, but the man's expression showed clearly that he would not be getting any satisfying information anytime soon. At least not from this man. Probably it was best to let those people treat him and wait until Remus returned. Difficult to contain his confusion and curiosity, yet there was nothing else he could do now.


	44. Padfoot's Return

**Chapter 44 – Padfoot's Return**

Harry knew that Ron was slowly thinking of more drastic means to stop him from pacing. For the past few minutes, the silent glares he threw into his direction had become darker, and more and more often his eyes strayed to the heavy iron pan that was suspended above the hearth. Harry would love to keep his kneecaps intact in the near future, yet he could not think of another good way to let out the tension. Pacing seemed to help at least a little, and in all honesty he didn't think that Ron would really resort to physically hurting him.

Nearly two hours since they had come down into the kitchen. Time seemed to be creeping by, whenever Harry checked his wristwatch, only a few minutes had passed though they had felt like hours. Ron seemed to sense that Harry was not in the mood for conversation, he had been staring down at the tabletop or into his cup of tea long gone cold for most of the time, but there was a rigidity and tension in his posture that belied his own nervousness.

Both of them jumped and spun around as the fireplace behind them suddenly sprang to life. Instead of a floo-call which Harry would have expected, there was a whooshing sound and suddenly Remus was standing in the basement kitchen. Harry wanted to look up, wanted to try and read the expression on Remus' face to see what had happened, but somehow, he didn't dare to. It was as if his body was following an own agenda, and within seconds, Harry was at Remus' side, hands on his shoulders, bursting out with questions.

"Remus, what happened? What did you do? What about Sirius? How is he? Can I see him?"

Remus took a moment to draw breath, and to Harry it seemed as if he was attempting to smile, unbeknownst that he was already smiling widely.

"It's a long story, I'll tell you later. Sirius is awake."

Harry's eyes widened, and he thought that his heart was beating so fast and loud that the others had to hear it as well.

"Awake? He's really awake? Can I see him?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, he is awake. I've been talking to him. He was responding, and he seemed lucid enough to me."

Harry immediately turned towards the fireplace, but Remus held him back by his wrist. Before Harry could say something, Remus turned towards Ron.

"Could you tell your parents that Sirius is awake, and that I've fetched Harry and brought him to St. Mungo's? Professor Dumbledore should be informed of it, as well."

Ron nodded. "Sure, will do. Tell Sirius I said hi."

Harry nodded impatiently, resisting the urge to tap his foot onto the floor. He wanted to get to Sirius, wanted nothing more than to get to St. Mungo's as quickly as possible. He was glad when Remus turned back towards him immediately after he had finished speaking to Ron.

"All right, you go first Harry. But please, wait for me next to the fireplace. I know that you want to see Sirius, but I don't want you to run through St. Mungo's all on your own."

Harry nodded, then he quickly climbed into the fireplace, shouted out his destination and was gone. Without Remus' request, he would have probably started running towards Sirius' ward immediately, and even though Remus arrived maybe fifteen seconds after him, it seemed like an endless delay. He was already halfway through the foyer by the time Remus had finished vanishing the soot from their clothes. He guessed that Remus was following him, but he didn't look back to check if that was the case. His mind was focused on one thing alone, and that was getting to Sirius' ward as quickly as possible. He didn't hear the sound of his footsteps echoing on the floor, didn't notice any of the people he ran past, he was only noticing how much of the seemingly endless distance he had already crossed.

There were two Aurors standing in front of Sirius' ward, Kingsley one of them, but Harry brushed past them without even noticing that they were there. Neither did he see that Kingsley had to hold back the other Auror from coming after him and restraining him.

Panting, Harry stopped barely in the doorway, not quite believing his eyes. Sirius was sitting up in his bed, a number of healers bustling around him. Harry couldn't see clearly, his gaze was suddenly foggy and misted over, but there was no mistaking that Sirius was sitting up in his bed, and that he had turned towards the door upon Harry's abrupt entry. Harry thought that Sirius was looking slightly confused, but then it was as if the invisible force that had been holding Harry back stopped working and the next thing he knew was that he was storming forwards and threw himself into Sirius' arms.

He was crying, could barely breathe in between the heavy sobs that wracked through his body, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the fact that Sirius was there, Sirius was holding him, Sirius would be all right. And if Sirius would be all right, then Harry would be, too.

Harry didn't know how much time had passed when he had finally calmed down. Sirius hadn't said a thing since his arrival, he had wordlessly wrapped his arms around the teenager and was holding him tightly against himself, rubbing soothing circles against Harry's back with one hand. Harry actually didn't want to move just one bit, he was comfortable in his momentary position, but there was one thing he needed to do first. Wiping his eyes on one of his sleeves, he withdrew slightly from the embrace and looked up at Sirius.

His godfather was looking down at him, his blue eyes clear and expressive for the first time since he had reappeared from behind the veil. A slight smile was playing around the corners of his mouth, and he was cupping the back of Harry's head with one hand while he stroked a few strands of hair away from Harry's face with the other. Harry felt new tears shoot into his eyes and quickly wiped them once more with his sleeves. He tried to say something, tried to find the right words. There were so many things he had thought of during the past two months, so many things which he desperately wanted to tell his godfather, but the words just didn't want to come out. He just looked at Sirius for some long moments, then brought up a hand and pressed his palm against Sirius' cheek, as if reassuring himself that he was really, truly there. Sirius' skin was reassuringly warm, his cheek was unshaved and stubbly, and Harry felt the muscles move beneath Sirius' skin as his godfather smiled down at him. It seemed so real, it could only be real, this simply could not be a dream. Harry smiled back at Sirius, then leaned his head back against Sirius' shoulder and sighed deeply, though it came out more like another sob. Sirius tightened his arms around him and made low shushing noises into Harry's ear. Then he spoke, though it was not Harry he was addressing.

"Remus, what happened? Why is Harry so distraught? And how did I end up here? You said something about someone dying, what in Merlin's name _happened_?"  
Harry shifted around so that he was leaning against Sirius' side and could look around the room without moving away from his godfather. He was quite surprised to find that the room which had previously been bustling with healers and nurses was now empty safe for Sirius, himself and Remus who was sitting on the bed facing them. Remus smiled encouragingly at Harry and squeezed his arm, then he sighed deeply and turned towards Sirius. Harry felt too exhausted to do any explanations, too worked up to do anything than to cuddle as closely to Sirius as humanly possible.

"It's a long story, Sirius", Remus said.

"So you said. I don't know how I got here, but I think I have time for it right now."

Remus sighed again. "Yes. Only, it's difficult to find a beginning. Do you know what day it is?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "I don't know how long I've been here. But last I know, it's been the beginning of June. The ninth, something like that."

"What is the last you remember?"

Sirius thought for a long moment. It was visible from his expression when the memories set in, and Harry felt Sirius' arms tighten around him instinctively.

"The Department of Mysteries. We went there, Snape said that Harry thought Voldemort had caught me, he was trapping Harry with it. There were Death Eaters in the Department. Bellatrix was there, wasn't she?"

He looked around in confusion, as if expecting his cousin to come jumping out from behind the wardrobe and hold them at wand-point. Remus squeezed his arm and shifted nervously on the bed.

"Yes, Bellatrix was there."

"What happened?"

Remus sighed deeply. "Sirius, this won't be easy to accept, but a lot of time has passed since that night in the Department of Mysteries."

"How much time? For how long have I been here?"

"You have been _here_ for a few days."

Sirius frowned. "So I got knocked out cold, something like that? A few days, maybe a week, well, that's not exactly short, is it?"

"No. But it wasn't just a week. Sirius, today is August 22nd."

It set in slowly, but as it did, Sirius paled even further. "Two and a half months? Where was I?"

"You fell through the archway in the Death Chamber."

It was over, Harry knew that. The mere thought about it shouldn't hold such a power over him anymore, but everything inside of him froze at the mere thought that Sirius had fallen through that accursed archway. A small sob escaped his lips, and Sirius instinctively pressed the teenager's head closer against his shoulder.

"But that can't be. Nobody can fall through that archway and survive."

Harry's breathing became rapid, and small black spots started to dance in front of his vision. He knew that Sirius hadn't died, Sirius was there with him, they had brought him back, yet the mere thought that two months ago everything had seemed so different sent icy chills through his entire body. Remus wasn't faring much better.

"That's what we all thought, yes." Remus said in a low voice, his face far paler than it had been only moments ago.

Sirius shook his head, clearly not believing what Remus was saying. "Then how come that I am here? What brought me back?"

"_Who_ brought you back, that's Harry and Severus. _What_ kept you alive for so long was the blood-bond."

"Which blood-bond?"

"The blood-bond you and I have been sharing for over fifteen years without realising it."

Sirius sank back into his pillows, confusedly looking from Remus to Harry and back again. Harry felt more and more as if he was about to collapse any moment, and he was torn between a number of feelings which he could not all immediately name. He could only imagine what all this must be like for Sirius right now, how his godfather had to be feeling, how confused he had to be. Looking up, he found that Sirius attempted to smile encouragingly at him, but the only effect this had on Harry was that another sob wrenched free and he burrowed his head against Sirius' shoulder. Sirius helplessly looked towards Remus, only to receive a sad smile in return. Turning back to his godson, Sirius stroke the hair away from Harry's face, pressed a kiss on his forehead and held him tightly.

"It's all right", he whispered. "I don't understand just one bit of what happened or what is going on here, but I'm here now. It'll be all right."

Harry had his arms wrapped tightly around Sirius' waist, his face buried against Sirius' shoulder again. He didn't know what to do next, he felt as if he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but hold on to his godfather as if there was the danger that he'd be ripped away from him again any moment. He was sixteen years old, and first he had been bawling his eyes out and now he was cuddling to Sirius like a small child. But he simply couldn't do anything else. The past months had been a constant emotional turmoil, an up and down between devastation, hope, disappointment, grief, sadness, and now that it was all over, Harry felt strangely empty. Or maybe it was a relaxed emptiness, he didn't even know that, didn't know exactly _what_ he was feeling, but Harry wanted nothing more than to sit here and not let go off his godfather, not ever again. Tired, that's what he was. For two months he had focused all his energy into getting Sirius back, and now that he had him, he was only tired. With a sigh, Harry closed his eyes and settled against Sirius' chest, allowing his godfather's steady heartbeat to lull him into a comfortable relaxed state. He wasn't about to fall asleep, but this was definitely more relaxed than he had been in quite some time. Sirius was lazily running his hand through Harry's hair, but he had his eyes fixed on Remus. When he spoke, his voice seemed to come from a distance.

"That blood bond you were talking about. Why didn't I know that it even existed? Did…did you know?"

"I don't know", Remus answered. "I didn't realise it, either. But after you…after you fell through the veil, I started having seizures. There was no explanation for them, none but the idea that I was somehow bonded to somebody. Severus performed Legilimency on me to find out for sure, but I should have known."

Remus fell silent, and Harry opened his eyes a bit to find that Remus was shaking his head, not looking up to meet Sirius' or his eyes.

"What should you have known, Remus?", Sirius gently probed.

"Since you fell through that veil, I was dreaming about you. About the night when we closed the blood bond."

"When was that? Why don't I remember, why did I never realise that there was a bond? From all I know, that isn't something ordinary."

Remus smiled softly. "No, it definitely isn't something ordinary. Do you remember that night during the war when we were ambushed in London?"

Harry looked up at Sirius, but found that his godfather's gaze was unreadable to him. Slowly, Sirius nodded.

"Well, my memory of that night is a bit hazy, but I know what you mean, yes." He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze distant. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was obvious that Sirius was far away and lost in memories for a moment. Finally, his gaze cleared again and he looked at Remus, a new emotion in his eyes. "You were injured. Merlin, why didn't we notice it before?"

Remus shrugged. "It's not all that surprising, if you think about it. First we were close friends, then the war drove us so far apart. For twelve years I didn't even dare to think about you. It's no small wonder we never noticed."

Sirius wordlessly brooded about that for some long minutes, his hand never stopping to stroke through Harry's hair.

"I'm just glad it saved your life", Remus finally said. Sirius remained silent, but he watched Remus closely. Harry shifted slightly, but though Sirius readjusted his arms, his attention remained focused on Remus.

"You don't look too good, Moony old friend."

Remus smiled unconvincingly. "It's been a hard time during the past months. For all of us. But I'm all right, Padfoot."

Without thinking, Harry rose into a half-sitting position, words of protest already on his mind. He knew that Remus didn't want others to worry about him, and to a certain degree he could sympathise with that feeling, yet he didn't want to hide the truth of what had happened from his godfather. And he guessed that if Remus reassured Sirius now that everything was just fine, he might never tell Sirius what had really happened.

Upon feeling Harry shift around, Sirius turned and looked at him. So did Remus, though his expression told Harry clearly that he would have loved to keep the details from Sirius. Sirius looked from Harry to Remus and back again, looking every bit like somebody who had said something wrong without knowing it.

"What's wrong? You are all right, Remus, aren't you?"

Remus nodded, and Sirius turned back to Harry. "Is he?"

"Yes, don't worry. But…well, he wasn't all right all the time. Actually, he wasn't anywhere near all right for most of the time since you fell through the veil. Remus nearly died." Seeing Sirius' shocked expression, Harry quickly shook his head. "It's all right now, really. I just…I just thought you should know. It's all right since we brought you back, but before I was really worried about Remus."

Remus smiled softly at Harry, and Sirius bent forward to wrap Remus into a tight, one-armed embrace.

"It's good to have you back, Padfoot. So good to have you back." As he withdrew, he smiled shakily at Sirius. Harry sighed lowly and leaned back against his godfather's chest.

"Don't you remember anything from the time after you fell through the veil?", he asked. Sirius thought for a long moment, then he shook his head.

"I don't know. Nothing specific." He thought for a moment, and a slight shudder ran through him. Harry saw the hairs on Sirius' forearms raise up. "It wasn't good. But it didn't feel like being gone for two months. It was more…nightmarish. Like a bad nightmare, the one in which you're running from something but can't move forward, and whoever's following you is catching up, and suddenly they're all around you. But it didn't feel like two months. For the life of me I couldn't say how long I've been there, but it didn't feel that long. I really don't know, it's hard to remember anything."

The memories seemed to have come back while thinking about it, but Harry didn't want to pry any further right now. He'd give Sirius some time to deal with what had happened, first. That wasn't important now. For the moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to enjoy the fact that his godfather was back, that was enough to keep him content. More than enough. After a few minutes of silence, he felt Remus squeeze his arm, then the man got up from the bed.

"I'm going to talk to Kingsley for a moment, see how things are supposed to go on for tonight. I guess those healers will be back soon, but I'll see that they'll leave you alone for a few more moments."

He gave Sirius' arm a squeeze as well, smiled softly and left the room. After the door closed behind him, the room remained silent for some long moments. Finally, Sirius shifted around a bit so that he could look at Harry. His gaze, when Harry finally looked up to meet his godfather's eyes, was shadowed with concern.

"Are you all right?", Sirius asked softly, running a hand along Harry's cheek. Harry leaned closer into the contact and closed his eyes tightly to stave off new tears.

"I will be."

Instead of accepting that answer, Sirius continued to look at Harry, and though the teenager refused to meet his gaze, he was feeling very small under that scrutiny.

"Harry?"

"Please don't go again." The words had tumbled out before Harry had consciously thought about them. It had sounded far more needy than he would have liked, but right now he didn't mind. Right now, it was probably good that Sirius knew just how much Harry needed him. Sirius looked at his godson for a few moments longer, then he tightened his arms around Harry and held him tightly against his chest.

"I have no intention of going anywhere. I never had any intention of going anywhere."

"And yet it happened."

Sirius sighed deeply. "Yes, it happened. Harry, there are never any guarantees in life, especially not during times of war. I have every intention to stay with you and take care of you, believe me. But there is simply no guarantee."

"I know", Harry mumbled against Sirius' hospital shirt. "It's just…I don't want to go through that again. You're all the family I have, I don't want to lose you again. Just for once in my life I want to have a normal family. I want you to stay with me. I love you."

Harry still didn't remember most of the things he had wanted to tell his godfather as soon as he woke up, but that was the most important thing. The one thing that could no longer be left unsaid. He had only realised just how much he cared about his godfather after Sirius had been gone, and the mere thought that he would never be able to tell Sirius how much it meant to him that he had come into his life had been more than painful. But now his godfather was back, and Harry got his second chance at letting Sirius know how much he cared.

Sirius smiled and held Harry close. "I love you, too. And I will do anything in my power to keep you safe and happy. As soon as I'm out of here, as soon as my legal status is finally cleared, the two of us will finally get our chance."

Harry smiled sleepily. "Good."

It was obvious that Sirius still had many questions about what had happened during the past two and a half months, but Harry felt too exhausted to answer any of them at the moment. He was too tired, he only wanted to rest, to finally rest peacefully again. He closed his eyes, shifted into a more comfortable position, and allowed Sirius' steady heartbeat to lull him asleep.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Remus returned to Sirius' ward half an hour after he had left, only to find Harry still lying on Sirius' bed, curled up against his godfather and by all looks asleep. He silently approached the bed and sat down on Sirius' other side. Sirius turned and smiled at his friend.

"He fell asleep shortly after you left", he said lowly, his hand all the while continuing to tenderly run through Harry's hair.

"It's been some very exhausting days for him. Exhausting weeks, rather. An it's already quite late, I'd say he was tired."

"Any news from out there?", Sirius asked, nodding his head into the direction of the door.

"I got the chance to talk to Kingsley for a few moments. The healers will be back tomorrow morning, for tonight they have seemingly examined you enough. Kingsley said they were surprised at how normal all their examinations came up. One of the healers will stay outside tonight, though, together with Kingsley. Just in case something happens, they still have monitoring charms on you."

Sirius nodded. "What about the Ministry?"

Remus shrugged. "Kingsley will stay here for the night. Officially, he's still in charge of your investigation. Over the past weeks, there have been some serious – posthumous – doubts about the question of your guilt. So they will listen to your story before they do anything else, Kingsley assured me that he'll make sure of that. Probably they will give you Veritaserum."

Sirius nodded absently. "As long as they don't come with a Dementor." He shuddered slightly and tore himself out of those thoughts before the fear could overwhelm him. "I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. Before Harry leaves for Hogwarts."

"First you'll need the agreement of the healers to be discharged. And there is still the Ministry to consider."

Sirius shook his head. "I'll get myself discharged as soon as possible, whether the healers like it or not. I feel exhausted, but not sick enough to keep lying here in hospital. And you said yourself that the healers have come up with normal results from their first examinations. I just…" The little colour that was left drained from his already pale face and he shook his head. "I just don't want to go back to Azkaban", he said lowly. Remus nodded.

"After you were back, Albus said he'd do his best to help get your name cleared as soon as possible. I doubt that he'd let them bring you back to Azkaban. Probably, they'll monitor your movements and will put you under house-arrest until everything is cleared up completely."

Sirius grimaced slightly, but then he looked down at the sleeping Harry and he nodded. "I hate that place, but if it's necessary I'd even let them lock me up there." He raised his head and looked up at Remus. "I just want to be free. I want to be there for Harry."

Remus smiled. "You'll get your chance. I'm sure you will."

"Do you think they'll let Harry stay here for the night?"

"Kingsley didn't say anything about him having to leave in the near future. Just let him sleep, I doubt that anybody will come in and chase him away."

Sirius nodded, unconsciously cradling the sleeping teenager more tightly against himself. He looked at Remus for a long moment.

"Have you had anybody look at your hand?"

Remus shook his head. "It's no deep cut. I cleaned it up, it'll heal on its own."

Sirius brought up his own hand, wrapped in a bandage, and looked at it as if he could see the cut through the white linen. "What in Merlin's name did you do, anyway? I still don't quite get what happened. We're sharing a blood bond, that much I've understood. The rest is still a complete mystery to me. What was that you said about Snape earlier, what does he have to do with everything?"

Remus sighed. "It's a long story, Sirius. Are you sure you don't want to wait until tomorrow?"

Sirius shook his head. "I doubt that I could sleep now, anyway. If you don't mind staying here, I'd very much like to know what happened."

Remus nodded and thought for a moment. "As I said, it's a long and difficult story. After you fell through the veil, we all thought you were dead. It was hard on Harry, especially since he had to return to his muggle relatives for the summer. We met them at King's Cross station, to give them some pieces of advise on how they were supposed to treat Harry, but of course we all knew that this was a less than optimal arrangement. Especially with you gone, he would have needed more emotional support than they were able to give, but with Voldemort reappeared, this was the safest solution for Harry. And I have to admit that at that time, I was too wrapped up in my own issues to think about a better solution for Harry. He was physically safe, that was the most important thing at that time. So I returned to Grimmauld Place with the others. It was all a blur, I had a pretty bad transformation and took a while to recover. Something like three weeks into the holidays, Kingsley and Moody forced me out of my stupor when Arabella reported that Harry had been brought to hospital."

Sirius' face shadowed with concern and he held Harry a bit more tightly against himself. The teenager gave a sleepy sigh and shifted around a little, but he didn't wake up.

"Why was Harry in hospital? What happened?"

"From what it seemed like at first, we assumed that he had tried to poison himself."

"Poison himself? Why should Harry do something like that?"  
"It seemed as if he had poisoned himself. His relatives said that he had brewed something up with the ingredients from his potions kit. And after your _death_, we left him to deal with it all on his own. It was scary how quickly we all accepted the possibility that he might have attempted to commit suicide. The first thing I did was call up Severus, and he gave Harry an antidote. I stayed in the muggle hospital with him, and when he woke up, he told me what had really happened. He hadn't tried to poison himself, he just isn't the world's best potions brewer. Harry had been trying to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion, but effectively had nearly managed to poison himself."

"Why did he try to brew such a potion at all? Why didn't he just write and ask somebody for help?"

Remus shrugged. "Because he didn't want to worry anybody. Because he didn't want to seem weak. Because he thought he could brew the potion. Still in the hospital, Harry asked me to take him away from his relatives. I thought he must have been pretty desperate to reach out and ask for help like that, and though Albus had decided that he should return to his relatives, I asked Dung for help and brought him to Grimmauld Place. It didn't change everything for the better, but he was starting to feel more comfortable. And then those seizures started."

Remus shook his head and turned to look away from Sirius, but his friend reached out with his free arm and urged him to look back at him.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing."

Sirius smiled slightly. "Not one of your better lies, Remus."

Remus gave a short, mirthless laugh and stared down into his lap.

"I should probably be thankful for the seizures. When they started, I was just about to leave the Order."

Sirius raised both eyebrows. "Why?"

Remus only shrugged. "I don't know. I just didn't see the sense in it anymore. Not in anything. The people around me died, everybody I cared for just vanished. The Order didn't achieve anything, and I thought I had nothing left worth getting up for in the morning. It all culminated, and during an Order meeting I exploded."

"What did you do?"

A slight smile stole across Remus' face, despite his obvious attempt to hide it. "I hit Severus."

Sirius gave a quick, bark-like laugh, then guiltily pressed his lips together and looked down to see whether he had woken Harry. But the teenager was still blissfully asleep.

"You hit Severus?"

"It was…I just lost control. He was his usual obnoxious self, said things he shouldn't have said, and I just lost control."

Sirius shook his head, a disbelieving grin on his face. "I wish I had seen it. I really wish I had seen it."

"I don't believe in violence to settle conflicts, and that left hook didn't help the situation any, but Merlin, it was a good feeling. But still, I really thought that I didn't have a future in the Order. I just wanted to get away from it all, but as I was preparing to leave, I had that first seizure. So I had to stay at Grimmauld Place for some time longer, and then things happened so quickly. There was a Death Eater attack, and Harry had another of those dreams again, the dreams that are connected to Voldemort. We all decided that if this marked the beginning of the war, Harry would be safer at Hogwarts, where Severus could give him lessons in Occlumency. The problem was, the seizures happened more and more often, and even as we finally found out what could have caused them, even as Severus had established for a fact that there still was a connection between you and me, we didn't find a way to use that bond to bring you back. It went so far that we thought about means to sever the connection so that it wouldn't kill me as well. Harry…well, he understood why I was thinking about cutting off the connection, but he couldn't accept it. And so he searched for a way to bring you back." Remus laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. "And he found it. But even as he put the answer right in front of me, I didn't want to accept it as a possibility. And so he went and tried to do it on his own."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't get that. What _did_ he do? And where does Severus come into all this?"

"Harry conducted what was probably the biggest research of his life. And he came to the conclusion that the way to bring you back was by using Necromancy."

Sirius whistled lowly. "I understand why you didn't want to accept that possibility. And without a Necromancer, it wouldn't have worked, anyway."

"No, and that's what I told Harry. But instead of deterring him from this idea, he enlisted the help of Ron, sneaked away from Hogwarts and to the Ministry, managed to get into the Department of Mysteries and attempted to use Necromancy to bring you back, despite all the warnings he had received."

"But how?"  
Remus breathed in deeply. "He managed to get hold of a book which told him what to do. I don't think he took it by himself, but I haven't yet figured out just how he lay his hands on it. He researched Necromancy so thoroughly, he must have known that this would kill him if he was no Necromancer, yet he tried to do this nevertheless. It was pure luck that Severus and I got to know what he was about to do, so we followed him to the Ministry. Harry had already started the rite, and as there was no way to stop him anymore, Severus had to finish what he had started."

Sirius wordlessly stared at Remus for some long moments. Then he nodded. "Snape is a Necromancer. It was probably his book Harry used."

Remus nodded. "Yes."

"You knew about it?"

Again, Remus nodded. "About Severus' ability? Yes, I did. After I found out what Harry was researching, I had a conversation with him about Necromancy as a possible way to bring you back. Severus flat out refused to even consider the option, so I didn't consider it any further. If anybody was able to judge about the possible risks, it's a Necromancer."

"How come nobody knew about it?"

"About Severus' being a Necromancer? Well, I doubt that he ever told somebody about it, except maybe from Albus. I found out by accident, years ago. I knew that Severus didn't particularly like the fact that I knew about it, but until a few days ago, I never once mentioned it to anybody else."

"Snape brought me back. Severus bloody Snape brought me back from the dead. That's one hell of a wizard's debt I'm in now."

"I doubt that Severus is thinking about this now. He did what he did to save Harry's life. And right now he's probably still too angry for pulling him into this to contemplate that you might owe him a wizard's debt."

Sirius shook his head and smiled grimly. "Not that I care, no matter how many wizard's debts I owe Snape. He saved Harry, that's the most important thing."

"And he saved you", Remus said softly, and when Sirius turned towards Remus he found that his friend's eyes were suspiciously shiny. "Merlin, it's so good to have you back, Padfoot. I missed you."

Sirius smiled and reached out to squeezed his friend's uninjured hand tightly.

"But what did you do earlier, before I woke up? Why did you cut us?"

"After we brought you back, you…well, you were unresponsive. Physically, you were back all right, but you just lay in your bed and stared at the ceiling, you didn't react to anything. For days, without any improvement. None of the healers had any idea what could be done to change your condition, and in the end I thought that, well, that I could use the blood bond to bring you back. But for that I had to reopen the bond, thusly all the cutting. I thought…well, it served to save your life once, I simply had to try and use it to save your life again. It took a lot of effort to coax you into coming back, though."

"I don't remember that." Sirius was shaking his head in confused disbelief, but Remus just squeezed his hand again and got up from the bed.

"It'll come back in time. I promise I'll give you all the details you might want to hear tomorrow, but for now you should probably try to get some rest. I imagine that the upcoming days won't become calm or restful."

Sirius grimaced slightly at the thought of what could possibly await him upon his return, but he obediently nodded and shifted around until he came to rest in a halfway comfortable position next to Harry.

"Shall I conjure up a bed for Harry?"

Sirius shook his head and wrapped an arm around Harry, who after all that shifting was nestled comfortably against Sirius' chest again. "No, leave him. It's…it's good to feel that he's here."

The memories of what Remus had seen during his attempt to bring Sirius back were still livid on his mind, but he would wait before he asked his friend about it. Tonight, there were far more important things. Harry definitely looked comfortable, and upon waking up he'd be glad to have the immediate reassurance that Sirius was back. Remus could very well imagine that Sirius needed the reassurance as well. He smiled and squeezed Sirius' shoulder again.

"If anything is wrong, Kingsley is outside. Albus should also know by now that you're awake again. I'll be back early tomorrow."

Sirius smiled back.

"Good night Remus."

"Good night."


	45. House Arrest

**Chapter 45 – House Arrest**

Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge firmly believed in bureaucracy. He definitely was not the one to condemn it. On the contrary, he saw bureaucracy as a very useful tool in ruling a society. True enough, sometimes things took longer, were not over and done with by a spontaneous decision, but the existence of rules and procedures guaranteed that things were done thoroughly, that the chance of mistakes was minimised, that whatever decision was made was right.

Today, Cornelius Fudge found himself faced with the need to dodge around a few obstacles which bureaucratic regulations normally put in the way of a quick decision. He was not overly content with that, but the possible alternatives, by his own estimation, were far worse. If Black's story was indeed true, then the Ministry of Magic might face the most horrible civil lawsuit it had ever faced. Wrongful imprisonment. Not for a few days or weeks – which would be bad enough – but for twelve years. Twelve years. Without a trial. Merlin, if the story was indeed true, then this was bad. Very bad indeed.

Of course, he had not been Minister of Magic by the time Black had been arrested and sent to Azkaban, but he knew that his position as the Minister right now was not as firm as it had once been. He could not afford any bad publicity right now. The Ministry could not afford bad publicity right now.

Fudge was not absolutely _sure_ that he entirely believed the story Albus Dumbledore had told him about Sirius Black. But there were a few facts about it that simply could not be pushed aside. Not only in the face of a possible lawsuit.

Which was why he had cancelled all his morning meetings and was now sitting in his private office, Albus Dumbledore sitting across from him. And he was desperately trying to figure out which would be the right course of action to take.

"I still don't quite see why you were in such a rush for this meeting", Fudge finally said. "I admit that something has to be done about Black's situation, but for now he is in St. Mungo's. Nothing speaks against having a guard outside his room there for as long as he's recuperating."

Dumbledore nodded. "I see your point, but there is a slight problem about this. The healers have thoroughly examined him since he woke up yesterday evening. In fact, from what I gather they are planning to keep on examining for the entire morning. And from what they have come up with so far, Mr. Black is in a rather good condition, considering what happened to him."

"That is good to year, yet I still don't see why you're in such a rush."

"Because Mr. Black will get himself discharged as soon as the healers have finished their preliminary examinations today."

Fudge felt a cold rush run down his spine. "He wants to do what?"

"Get himself discharged. Mr. Black does not want to spend any more time in hospital than necessary."

Fudge leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair with a deep sigh. "Even if everything you told me is right, even if Black is innocent, for now he still is a Ministry prisoner. He can't just get himself discharged. Dumbledore, I can't let him walk free like that. I understand that you have doubts about his imprisonment, and I have agreed that I will set things in motion to clear up what really happened and if he was imprisoned wrongfully, but I won't set him free like that. He still is a Ministry prisoner, that remains a fact for now, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore nodded. "I know that, Cornelius. Nobody expects you to set Mr. Black free. But as long as there is serious doubt about his guilt, he should not be sent back to any of the Ministry prison facilities. Especially not back to Azkaban."

Fudge raised an eyebrow. "Then what do you want me to do?"

"I agree that you can't just set him free, as you so eloquently put it. I suggest a house-arrest. Restrict Mr. Black to a certain location until his case is cleared up, place monitoring charms on him to make sure about his whereabouts. I firmly believe that his case can be solved quickly if it's not artificially drawn out, so the house arrest should only be a short-term solution."

"Might I inquire why Mr. Black is in such a hurry?"

Dumbledore smiled. "He has fourteen years to catch up to. He has a godson to take care of, a godson who will leave for school in a bit more than a week. He doesn't want to spend that time locked up somewhere. He has lost fourteen years of his life due to his imprisonment, and considering the doubts about his guilt I'd say he has earned not to lose any more time. It cannot be so time-consuming to arrange a hearing, administer Veritaserum and have Mr. Black relate his story in front of witnesses."

"You as well as I know that it isn't done with a simple hearing. There are things that have to be done before that, I will have to arrange everything. It cannot be done today, and probably neither tomorrow."

"Even though the healers will probably release Mr. Black on his own risk, I think it would be advisable to give him a few more days to recover before he is put under the strain of a questioning. Which is why I suggested the house-arrest."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Fudge nodded. "And where would Mr. Black spend his _house-arrest_?"

"How about his family home, No. 12, Grimmauld Place. It is secluded, he could be monitored easily as it is located in a non-wizarding area, and it is, after all, his heirloom. I think it could be arranged to have the place secured to your agreement."

Fudge nodded again. "All right. But only under one condition. Auror Shacklebolt will be guarding him personally, in addition to the monitoring charms. This is about as far as I can go considering that for now Mr. Black is a convicted murderer whose case is about to be reviewed. I am trying to help you because if there was a mistake made about his case, I want it resolved, but for now I cannot just assume that he is innocent. Auror Shacklebolt is in charge of Mr. Black's case, I trust him to keep this in line in the case that you are wrong in your assumptions about Black's innocence."

Dumbledore nodded. "I think Mr. Black will understand and agree to this arrangement." He got up and stretched out his hand towards the Minister, who could not help but feel a little relieved now that this meeting was over. Dumbledore always gave him the feeling that he was nothing more than a pawn in a game of wizard's chess, about to be moved in the direction the old headmaster wanted. It wasn't a feeling Fudge particularly enjoyed, so he was always glad when meetings with Dumbledore – announced or unannounced – were finally over. He stretched out his own hand and shook the headmaster's.

"I will contact Auror Shacklebolt immediately. He will send a team to secure the premises at Grimmauld Place to secure it. And I will inform St. Mungo's, so that Mr. Black will only be released once Auror Shacklebolt is there to escort him to Grimmauld Place."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, Minister. I thank you very much for your time and help."

Fudge nodded, at a loss for words, and a moment later he breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind Dumbledore. Just as he sank down in his chair, there was a short knock and his secretary stuck her head into the room.

"Minister, shall I cancel your one o'clock meeting as well?"

Fudge checked his watch. Half past twelve. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, thank you Sheila. But please do not patch through any fire-calls or visitors until then."

The secretary nodded. "Of course, Minister."

The door closed, and Fudge sank back in his chair and stared out of the window into the artificial summer afternoon that often let him forget that his office was actually located underground. Merlin, he hoped he had done the right thing. With You-Know-Who back, he definitely couldn't afford to make a mistake that would set his one-time right hand man back free. He would review the case very thoroughly before he allowed Black to be set free, that much was clear.

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"Do you really think it's a good idea? I mean, I'm the first who wants you back home, but in all honesty you don't look too good."

Sirius smiled at the teenager who was anxiously hovering in front of his bed, poised as if ready to catch him should he make a misstep or fall. Harry had been fretting like this ever since Sirius had announced that he wanted to get himself discharged as soon as the healers were finished with him for the morning. But no matter how often Harry told him that of course he wanted to have him back home, but didn't he think he should wait for another day or so, Sirius' resolution to leave had never wavered. He couldn't stand the thought to stay here for any longer than absolutely necessary. Even if it meant going back to Grimmauld Place. So he just smiled at his godson, stretched out a hand and put it on Harry's shoulder.

"I even think it's an excellent idea, Harry. Once we're back at Grimmauld Place, Remus and you can play nursemaid for all you like. I'll even stay in bed. But for now, I need to get out of here before the ambience drives me mad."

It was obvious that Harry was not entirely convinced of his godfather's ability to leave the bed without sustaining severe physical damage. Remus was leaning against the wall on the other side of the bed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, a smug grin on his face. For the entire morning, he had enjoyed Harry's fretting around Sirius immensely without once getting involved in the discussion himself. Now he uncrossed his arms, pushed himself off the wall and checked his watch.

"Kingsley should come to fetch you any moment now. There will be at least one other Auror present during your – how did they call it? – _transfer_ to Grimmauld Place, so a few things had to be arranged at headquarters to make it look as if it wasn't as inhabited as it is now. The Ministry might be able to monitor where you are, but there is no need to tell them just exactly how many people are at Grimmauld Place with you. Much less who. Once we've arrived, Kingsley will place the monitoring charms, give you a lecture about what you're not allowed to do and tell you that he won't take his eyes off you until your hearing. Then the other Aurors will leave, and Kingsley will enjoy a few days off at headquarters while we wait for Fudge to set a date for your hearing. That's the plan."

Sirius nodded grumpily. Dumbledore had been to the hospital earlier, explaining the deal he had made with Minister Fudge for Sirius. It had been obvious that the idea of being under house-arrest was bothering Sirius greatly, though probably not as much as the thought that his fate lay now entirely in the Ministry's hands. His chances to get declared innocent were now as big as they had not been for fourteen years, that was true, but he was also in a position in which all he could do was sit it out and wait. Once the hearing was set, he would get a chance to tell his story, and then it was hoping that they would believe him. The situation was nagging at him, and that would remain so until it was all over and done with. Until a decision had been made. It was a topic Sirius had been dodging all day, yet Remus knew that it was bothering him. But there was nothing they could do about that now, first they had to get Sirius out of the hospital and safely back to Grimmauld Place, and then they would worry about everything else.

For now, Remus and Harry helped Sirius into the clothes Remus had brought from Grimmauld Place earlier this morning, after which the teenager insisted that Sirius remained sitting on the bed until Kingsley and the other Aurors came to fetch him.

Ten minutes passed until that happened. Ten minutes during which Harry grew increasingly agitated. Sirius too, though instead of pacing the room like Harry did, he remained sitting on the bed. Yet his hands were clutching the sheets so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Nobody in the room said anything. Finally, there was a short rap on the door and Kingsley entered the room, followed by two other Aurors. Sirius got up from the bed, standing to meet them on slightly shaky legs. Kingsley came up to Sirius, his face a stony mask that didn't betray in the slightest that he knew the prisoner in front of him rather well.

"Mr. Black, as you have been informed you will be escorted to your residence in No. 12, Grimmauld Place, London, where you will be placed under house-arrest until a hearing at the Ministry of Magic will decide whether you will be returned to Azkaban or not. You will be escorted by myself as well as Auror Stratson and Auror Williams. I am to inform you that you are to follow our orders until the arrival at our destination, and that any attempt you might make to disobey an order given to you or any attempt to escape Ministry custody will lead to an immediate transfer to Azkaban. If you cooperate, then we will have no problems with each other. While you are under house-arrest, you will be placed under a monitoring charm to make sure that you do not leave the location you're restricted to. I will be there to watch and guard you until your transfer to the Ministry for your hearing. Have you understood the arrangement?"

"Yes", Sirius mumbled out from between clenched teeth.

"Do you have any questions before we proceed?"

"No."

Kingsley nodded and reached into his pocket. He produced his wand and held it loosely by his side.

"Mr. Black, for reasons of security I will have to immobilise you during the time of transfer."

Sirius nodded, and before he could even brace himself, Kingsley had the wand pointed at him.

"_Petrificus Totalis_!"

Sirius went stiff immediately, and had not the two other Aurors reached out to steady him, he would have fallen face-first to the floor. Kingsley reached into his pocket again and produced a couple of inches of isolated muggle-wire. Placing the middle of it into Sirius' palm and closing his fingers around it, he and the other Aurors took hold of the strand of wire, then Kingsley touched it with his wand and a moment later, the portkey activated and the four men were gone.

Remus gave a small sigh and turned towards Harry. "Don't worry, he's safely on his way now. Let's give them a few moments to settle Sirius, give him his lectures and let the other Aurors leave, then we'll go after them."

Harry nodded numbly and followed Remus towards the door. Somehow, he still could not entirely believe everything that had happened during the past two days. It all had happened so fast, much too fast for him to realise its full impact yet. He allowed Remus to lead him out of the room and down the corridors and staircases, until they reached the foyer where the public fireplaces were located. Remus checked his watch again.

"Well, they've had more than ten minutes to settle Sirius now. They know that we'll be staying with Sirius, so even if the other two Aurors are still there, there's no reason for us to wait for any longer." He gestured towards one of the fireplaces. "After you, Harry."

Still not able to grasp that he would return to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius was waiting for him, Harry reached for the floo-powder, threw it into the flames, climbed into the fireplace and flooed to the basement kitchen at No. 12, Grimmauld Place.

He came into the room to find that the two other Aurors indeed hadn't left yet. Sirius was sitting on a chair at the table, the full body bind obviously already lifted, but still looking slightly queasy. Kingsley was standing next to the fireplace, and while Stratson and Williams had their wands pointed at Harry upon his rather noisy arrival, Kingsley merely nodded in recognition and allowed him to walk over to his godfather. Remus stumbled out of the fireplace only a moment later, and as the flames died down, Kingsley turned to Williams and Stratson.

"I'd say we're finished for now. The monitoring charm is placed and the banishment charm is in place so that Black cannot leave the house. Or is there anything else you can think of?"

Williams looked at Stratson, then back at Kingsley and shook his head. "No, sir. If you are settled and can't think of anything else, then I'd say we're finished."

"Good. I'll give my daily reports from tomorrow morning on. If any of the alarms sound, send reinforcements immediately."

"Will do, sir."

The two Aurors nodded polite goodbyes to Harry and Remus, ignored the still slightly dazed Sirius completely, and took the fireplace to floo back to the Ministry. Once they were gone, Kingsley waved his wand at the fireplace, then he pulled up a chair and sank down into it with a sigh.

"Merlin, sometimes the Ministry and the Department really worry me. Had it been an arrangement for any other prisoner than you, Sirius, I'd have never agreed to it. This whole setting has so many loopholes, I shudder to think of it."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean? From what I heard, Sirius can't leave the house."

"No, he can't. But that is about all the Ministry can monitor. He could hold nightly soirées with twenty Death Eaters and You-Know-Who himself, and they wouldn't notice." He shook his head. "But anyway, all the better for us. I'm not asking for complications."

He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his neck, his gaze straying to Sirius.

"Welcome home. Maybe it would be better if you went to bed, you don't look too good."

Sirius sighed and nodded tiredly and Harry, who was perched on a chair close beside him, put a hand on his godfather's shoulder. Sirius looked at his godson and forced himself to smile at him.

"Yeah, otherwise my two nursemaids are going to force me upstairs at wand-point."

Kingsley grinned, revealing two lines of even, white teeth. "Anyway, I'm going to lie down for an hour or two. I've spent the past night sitting in front of your ward, trying not to fall asleep. Would have looked bad in front of that unnerving healer who was sitting beside me, reading his medical journals. In any case, call me if there's anything, I'm in the empty bedroom on the first floor. At the moment nobody else is here, but the Weasleys should come back during the next days."

"Good night."

"If only it were. It'll take days until I'm back to a normal day-and-night-rhythm. Good night."

He got up from his chair and walked over towards the door. As his steps receded up the stairs, Harry turned towards Sirius. He was indeed a bit worried about his godfather. The transport to Grimmauld Place had strained him pretty badly, though Harry was sure that he was trying hard to hide the extent of how much it had exhausted him.

"Come on, let's get you up to bed."

Sirius smiled and slowly got up from his chair. He took great care not to let his physical weakness show, but their progress up the stairs was slower than normal, and by the time they reached the door to Sirius' bedroom, there was sweat on Sirius' face and he was even paler than he had been before. Harry and Remus quickly ushered him into the room, helped him change into a pair of pyjamas and saw to it that he got settled in bed.

"Is there anything you need?"

Sirius shook his head and closed his eyes with a tired sigh. "No, thanks. Just a bit of rest."

Remus smiled and turned to leave, but Harry remained rooted to the spot, even though Sirius already had his eyes closed and was about to fall asleep. When his former teacher touched him gently on the arm, Harry turned towards him and shook his head. "I'll stay here for a while."

"All right. I'm downstairs, in case you need anything."

"Okay."

While Remus left the room, Harry pulled an armchair up to the bed and sat down. By now, Sirius was snoring softly, oblivious to everything that was going on around him. So much for his constant reassurances that he was feeling fine. Nobody who was feeling fine would fall asleep that easily in the middle of the day. But Sirius would get better, the most important thing was that he was back home now. Remus had moved his stuff to one of the empty bedrooms on the corridor, allowing Sirius to return to his own room. Though he had never been really comfortable here at Grimmauld Place, both Remus and Harry had thought he might want to have at least some familiarity in his surroundings. Not that he would have noticed if they had settled him in the wine-cellar, right now Sirius would have probably slept anywhere. Harry smiled and pulled the blanket up towards Sirius' shoulders, then he settled back and closed his eyes.

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Harry had found himself in hospital quite a number of times over the past couple of years. He knew what it was like to find himself in the situation of being a patient who actually wanted nothing more than to get on with his normal life. But he had never, _never_, been only half as bad as his godfather was. While Sirius had spent the first afternoon and evening of his stay at Grimmauld Place sleeping, only waking for an hour or so to eat something in the late afternoon, the second day had been entirely different. Sirius had woken early, had not waited for anybody to look in on him, instead had gotten up and taken a shower, and then had gone downstairs for breakfast as if it was just an ordinary day. Remus had thrown a fit when he had seen his friend come down into the kitchen as if he hadn't been in hospital just a day earlier, and had literally forced Sirius back to his bed.

And from then on, it had been like kindergarten.

Harry was sure that Sirius knew and also understood the reasons for Remus' and Harry's worry, yet for some reason he seemed entirely unable to act in a way that would have alleviated that worry. Instead, Sirius snuck out of bed whenever nobody was there to watch him. He refused to stay in pyjamas all day, anyway, and as soon as he was left alone in his room he got out of bed, snuck out of the room and either sought out his godson, or went down into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, or he went into his mother's former bedroom which had been turned into the house's owlery to amuse himself about all the owl-droppings on his mother's bed and her favourite paintings on the wall. Mostly, those outings were over as soon as Remus found out that he was roaming the house again, or when Sirius was spending time with Harry and the teenager noticed that his godfather was growing tired or exhausted. Sirius always complained loudly about being sent back to bed, but he didn't struggle. Probably because he knew that as soon as nobody was watching, he'd be out again. That procedure repeated itself up to four or five times a day, and neither side refused to give in.

In a way, it was even funny, though as worried as Harry was about his godfather, he could not always see the humour in Sirius' behaviour. Just now, he was sitting in his room, on the single chair in front of the desk, watching how Sirius was slowly dozing off on Harry's bed. Ron wasn't there, since Sirius had returned to Grimmauld Place the Weasleys were staying in the Burrow and would only return the following day. Harry had been spending a few quiet moments in his room when there had been a knock and Sirius had come into the room. Sneaking, that was the only word to describe how he had moved. As if he was expecting Remus to jump out from behind the wardrobe any moment, ready and willing to physically drag him back to bed.

First, Sirius had been sitting on Harry's bed, chatting with him about this and that, catching up on what had happened during the time of his absence. Not about everything, though. So far, Harry had effectively dodged all the parts he was still struggling to deal with. After his breakdown in the hospital, Harry had effectively avoided talking about what Sirius' _death_ had done to him. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to his godfather about it, it was just that for now, Harry didn't want to think about that time. He wanted to enjoy that his godfather was back, not look back on the time when his godfather had been gone. Just until he left for Hogwarts in a couple of days, he wanted to live in the present. Sirius seemed to have sensed that, so they had been chatting about everything but the emotionally trying parts.

After maybe half an hour of chatting, Sirius had stretched out on Harry's bed and had begun to doze off. Slowly, ever so slowly, with the occasional burst of conversation in between, but right now he had his eyes closed and from experience Harry knew that he would be starting to snore soon. With a smile, he got up from his chair, walked over to the bed and pulled the blanket up over his godfather. Sirius smiled softly and burrowed deeper into the pillows. Seeing that his godfather was not about to wake up anytime soon, Harry sat down on Ron's bed, picked up the book he had been reading in earlier that day and started to read.

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Sirius didn't get up anymore that day, and nothing seemed to be able to wake him. Harry went down for dinner, but even as he came upstairs into his room again, Sirius was still lying burrowed underneath the blanket, snoring softly. Harry smiled and sat down on Ron's bed. At least Sirius was getting some more rest, though that also meant that Harry had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do with the rest of his day. But before he could even contemplate his possibilities, there was a soft knock on the door and a moment later Remus came into the room. Upon seeing Sirius sleeping on Harry's bed, he crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, but there was an amusement in his voice that belied his strict outward stance.

"He is getting some rest", Harry immediately came to his godfather's defence. "He's been sleeping for a few hours now already."

"Yes, but he should go to bed."

Harry frowned. "He _is_ in bed. He can sleep here for the night."

"He already slept here the last night."

Harry only shrugged. "I'd think that as long as it's in a bed, it shouldn't matter where he's sleeping. Ron isn't here, and I certainly don't mind him staying here."

Remus smiled softly. "It's not as if he'd listen to me, anyway. Just see to it that you get some rest as well. Good night, Harry."

"Good night."

After Remus had left, Harry changed into a pair of pyjamas and lay down in Ron's bed. "Good night, Sirius", he said softly as he extinguished the lights, but his godfather was too fast asleep to hear him. It took only a few minutes, then he was just as fast asleep as his godfather was.

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They came again, like they had come nearly every night since Harry had brought Sirius back. The darkness. The faceless shadows, the ones which hovered on the edge of his vision without showing themselves, whispering to him, whispering about the other side, drawing him towards the other side. Harry wanted them to stop, wanted them to leave him alone, but he could not stop them. There was no way to block them out, no way to stop their endless whispers about the dead, about the deceased loved ones. They were asking him to join them, drawing him towards their side. It were those horrible moments he had not told anybody about, the moments he knew Snape had witnessed when he had attempted to bring Sirius back.

Harry wanted it to stop, but there was no way for him to do so. All he could hear were the whispers, the toneless whispers of the dead, telling him to come to them, to come to those he had lost, those many he had lost, all those he cared about were on the other side, didn't he want to join them? It would be easy, the whispers said, growing louder and louder. Sirius was here, he was waiting for Harry, there was no way to bring him back.

Sirius was dead.

Gone.

He would never come back.

Sirius was dead.

Harry tried to run, tried to shout, yell out _no, no, no_, tried to drown out the whispers, but they were inside his head, beyond his ability to stop them.

Sirius was dead.

_No!_

"No!"

Harry struggled, but he could not get away, they were holding him back, stopped him from running, and the darkness was engulfing him, swallowing him up, never to let him go again.

"Harry", a soft voice said at his side. Harry turned his head, straining to see, but the darkness was complete and didn't allow him to see anything. There were hands reaching out for him, trying to pull him further into the darkness, so Harry struggled against their hold.

"Harry, come on, wake up kiddo. Wake up."

Harry didn't stop struggling, but a moment later a dim light came from the side, finally illuminating the darkness around him. Much to his surprise, Harry found himself sitting up in his bed, his breathing harsh and fast, his whole body entangled in the blankets in a way that rendered him nearly motionless. There was a hand on his arm, and as Harry turned his head to the side he found Sirius sitting on the mattress beside him, one hand against his upper arm, a look of extreme worry on his tired ad drawn face.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Harry blinked a few times and finally focussed his eyes on his godfather. "I…I think so. I don't know. What happened?"

"You had a nightmare, I'd say. You were thrashing around in bed, and in the end you were screaming."

"Oh", Harry said tonelessly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry quickly shook his head. "No."

Sirius didn't look convinced, but he wordlessly nodded and started to help Harry untangle himself from the blanket.

"It sounded pretty bad", he said as he pulled the covers back and shook them loose.

"Sorry that I woke you."

"Nah, that's all right." Sirius remained silent for a few more moments, his fingers nervously straightening out nonexistent folds in the bedcovers, then he looked at Harry again. "You have those nightmares often, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes. But I really don't want to talk about it now. It's not important, really."

Sirius smiled and tenderly stroked some strands of hair away from Harry's forehead. "I think it's very important, Harry. I can't force you to talk about it, but if it has anything to do with what happened in the Death Chamber, you should not play it down."

Harry shook his head and drew his knees slightly against his body. "Just go back to bed, you need your sleep."

"So do you. And judged from what I've heard this night as well as last night, you're not exactly getting plenty of either, sleep or rest."

Harry shrugged uncomfortably and shifted around on the bed, though he didn't manage to escape his godfather's scrutiny. He didn't particularly like the fact that Sirius had witnessed this nightmare, but he hadn't even been aware that last night's dream had been bad enough so that Sirius could have noticed it. He didn't remember waking up, in any case. Fidgeting, he pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, but still remained silent. Sirius seemed to notice that Harry was not ready to talk right now, so he ruffled across the teenager's hair and got up from the bed.

"I'm here if you want to talk, all right?"

Harry nodded and shifted into a lying position on the bed, curled up tightly in himself. Sirius sat down on his own bed, looked at Harry for a long moment, then he lay down and extinguished the light he had lit earlier.

"Try to get some sleep. I'm here if you need anything."

"I know, thanks. Good night Sirius."  
"Good night."

For a few moments, there was the rustling of blankets as Sirius lay down in his bed, then a minute of silence. Harry was straining to listen whether Sirius had already fallen asleep. In all honesty, he didn't want to go back to sleep again right now.

"Sirius?", he asked softly after a few minutes. There was another rustling of blankets to Harry's left, then Sirius' voice.

"Yes?"

"Do you…do you dream about it?"

There was a moment's hesitation. "About what happened behind the veil?"

"Yes."

"Not really. I…it feels as if it was lurking close to the surface, but for now I'm probably too exhausted to dream at all. Sometimes I have the feeling that I don't sleep too well, that I'm not as rested as I probably should be, but so far there are no dreams."

"Oh." It sounded nearly as if Harry was disappointed with his godfather's answer.

"During the day I sometimes have to forcefully stop myself from thinking about it. I think that if I start drifting off, it'll come back, and I don't think I'm ready to face that yet. That I can evade thinking about it for now doesn't mean it'll stay that way. That you're having dreams about it isn't a sign of weakness."

"I know. But I want it to stop."

There was more rustling, and in the dim light Harry could see how Sirius leaned up on one elbow. "They will in time, when you learn how to deal with them. You've been fooling around with death, Harry. That was bound to leave its marks. Give it time, and talk about what's bothering you. I'm always here for you, anytime."

Harry burrowed deeper into his blankets, shivering as if it was winter and freezing outside. "I want it stop now, not at some point in the future. I want to get some sleep for a change, not wake up at some point in the middle of the night, asking myself what of the past months has really happened and what has only been a dream. I want to go to bed in the evening knowing that you are back, that the people I care for are safe, and I want to be sure that I _still_ know all that for a fact when I wake up. I don't think I'm asking for too much, am I?"

Sirius didn't say anything, but there was another amount of blanket-rustling and suddenly Harry's mattress sagged to the left as Sirius sat down next to him and wrapped his arms around him. Harry only reluctantly leaned into the embrace. He was sixteen years old, for Merlin's sake. Nightly cuddling definitely wasn't something a sixteen year old teenager normally did, but after a few moments he decided that just for once he could as well tell himself that he wasn't a normal teenager, anyway. Other people did that all the time, so why shouldn't he be entitled to do it as well. Right now it felt good to have Sirius here with him, so he'd just stop thinking about it. Sirius tightened his arms around Harry and shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed.

"I can't give you that, Harry. I can't stop the dreams, and I can't stop the insecurities. I wish I could, but I can't. I can only reassure you when you need it, if you let me in. We can't change everything that's bothering you from one day to the next, so we'll just take it one step after another. And for tonight, that means I'll make sure that you get some real rest. I'm here, for tonight we're all safe. _You_ are safe. No worrying about what will be tomorrow. Just sleep, Harry. I'm here."

Harry smiled and leaned his head against Sirius' chest. He desperately wished he could just stop worrying about the things that had happened and the things that might still happen to him and the people he cared for. He couldn't, at least not entirely. But Sirius was right, Harry desperately needed some rest. He was comfortable, he was tired, and even if he had wanted it, his brain refused to brood on his nightmares, the space behind the veil or other cruelties for any longer. With a sigh, he burrowed into the blankets and closed his eyes.

"Thank you, Sirius."

"You're welcome. Just sleep."


	46. Epilogues

**Epilogue I – Hearing**

Sirius was pale, Janus thought. Abnormally pale. Not that he particularly cared about it, but to him Sirius looked to be on the border of physical collapse. Not that it was surprising, come to think about it. Veritaserum did not only force the one who took it to tell the truth, it had severe physical side-effects on the people who took it. Janus couldn't recall the number of times that he had seen suspects puke their guts out during an interrogation after they had been given Veritaserum. So far, Sirius had been able to keep his stomach contents to himself, but if this took any longer, Janus wasn't so sure that would remain so.

Being present during Sirius' interrogation had actually not been part of Janus' daily schedule when he had come to work this morning. But then he had found Moody waiting for him in his office, informing him that Sirius' hearing had been scheduled for today, ten o'clock, the Minister's office. Fudge must have had serious doubt's about the guilt of the man he had proclaimed a murderer and Voldemort's second in command only two years ago, seeing that he had rushed to set this meeting. And it had been hushed up pretty well, too. Not a public trial, a private hearing with only the Minister, the accused, his representative and representatives of law enforcement being present. Janus hadn't received an invitation – hadn't expected to receive one – yet being present was exactly what Moody had requested of him.

Technically, this was no problem. Janus was one of the highest ranking Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, his presence would not cause as much as a raised eyebrow. Officially, Kingsley Shacklebolt was present during the hearing because he was the Auror in charge of Sirius' investigation. Janus had never concerned himself with Sirius' case, at least not professionally. He hadn't known anything about the whereabouts of his brother's friend since his escape from Azkaban, not until the events in the Department of Mysteries earlier this summer. Again it had been Moody who had told him what the Order believed to be the truth about Sirius' story.

It hadn't surprised Janus, really, to get to know that his brother had been aware of Sirius' whereabouts all the time, yet he had resolved not to involve himself into Sirius' case. Especially not because Remus was Sirius' friend. Personal involvement always was a source for problems for somebody in his position, and it was something Janus had always tried to evade. All the more angry was he with Remus for bringing him into this position, for associating with a criminal on the basis of a friendship that had existed more than fifteen years in the past. For associating with a criminal, period. Alleged or not, innocent or not. Somebody in Remus' position simply could not allow himself to get into trouble with the Ministry. Just as little as Janus could, probably even less.

Evading those problems of personal involvement had worked perfectly until this morning. Moody hadn't given any specific reason why he wanted Janus to be present during the hearing, he had rambled something about keeping an eye out, relying the information from the hearing to Moody so that the Order knew what had happened. Which was complete bullshit, and Janus knew it. The Order would get to know what had happened soon enough. Sirius would relate it to them, as would Dumbledore, who was also present during the meeting. Just because Moody could not be present without arousing suspicion – could hardly ever be present anywhere without arousing suspicion – it didn't mean that the Order needed any additional ears.

Janus could only imagine one reason why Moody had asked him – him who was neither a member of the Order nor had any interest in Sirius' case other than a superficial curiosity – to be present here. And that was that somebody else had asked Moody to do it.

There was only one person Janus could think of, yet he was absolutely at a loss as to imagine why his brother wanted to have him here. Yet there was no other explanation that made sense. Moody would have told him if the old Auror had had any specific reason why _he_ wanted Janus involved, but he hadn't. And the only other person who connected Sirius' case to him, on an either professional or personal level, was Remus. There simply wasn't anybody else.

It didn't surprise Janus that Remus hadn't asked him personally. They hardly ever spoke to each other nowadays, anyway. Yet why Remus should see a need to have Janus present here at all was a mystery to Janus. To make him see and believe the truth about Sirius? The truth Remus believed in? That didn't matter just one bit.

Janus didn't give a damn whether Sirius had committed the crimes he had been imprisoned for. If he was truly innocent, it was tragic that he had been in Azkaban for so long. Janus had been to Azkaban more than once, and he wouldn't want to spend just one night in that place. But whether Sirius had been imprisoned there innocently or not didn't make a great difference to him. There were big enough problems for him to deal with in the here and now, and he didn't have the power to change the past.

Judged from what he had seen today, it had been a complete waste of time to come here. Janus didn't have a high opinion of Minister Fudge's rhetoric skills on a good day, and today he had started the hearing with an endless droning on of what might or what might not have gone wrong during Sirius' initial arrest, emphasising the situation back then, the stress the war had put the Ministry under, the fact that they were only humans. It was a pitiful sigh, really, seeing the Minister making profound excuses before it had even been proven that Sirius was innocent. And even if he was, excuses would not give him his lost twelve years back. There simply was no excuse for imprisoning an innocent man without proof, period.

Then Black had been given the Veritaserum, and Fudge had started questioning him. Sirius had shown all the signs of somebody who was questioned under Veritaserum – he had given straightforward answers, yet it had been obvious that he was uncomfortable answering. No small wonder. Once he had been given the Veritaserum, it had been impossible for him to hide anything. Most criminals were afraid of the Veritaserum because it rendered them unable to say anything but the truth, but another effect which hardly anybody considered was that it also didn't allow the one who had taken it to hide anything.

More than once during the interrogation, Sirius had been struggling hard to suppress his feelings – anger, sadness, grief – without any success at all, and as he had been given a high dose of the potion and the interrogation drew on for more than one and a half hours, the process must have been physically and mentally exhausting.

All in all, no small wonder that he was pale as a wraith.

Fudge had also grown paler during Sirius' questioning, but that was probably due to the answers he had given. Up to this day, the Minister might have been hoping that Sirius was guilty, if not for everything he had been accused of, then at least for something, but Sirius' answers shed an entirely different light on the events that had taken place all those years ago. Sirius had stopped talking a few minutes ago, and now everybody in the room was waiting for Fudge to speak.

He did, finally, after he cleared his throat and ran a hand across his face.

"Mr. Black, seeing that you have been given Ministry-approved Veritaserum, I believe there is no reason to doubt that what you have related to us is true." He nervously wrung his hands and for all the world made the impression that he was hoping for somebody in the room to speak up and disagree. Nobody did.

"Then I think now we should start discussing how to proceed from here. You will surely understand that there is a lot at stake for everybody involved. We're talking how to deal with the press, we're talking financial compensations and all that."

From where his chair was leaning against the wall to one side of the room, Janus noticed with interest how some of the colour returned to Sirius' face and his eyes began to sparkle furiously.

"I don't give a damn about that, Minister. No matter what you're going to do now, nothing will give me back all those years I've lost. There are a few things I indeed want from you, but it most certainly isn't anything you're going to talk about now, so cut the crap. I am innocent, and I want back a little of what was taken from me. Not much, but I want it right now."

Fudge looked as if something had crawled into his mouth and died there. "And what is that?"

"I don't particularly care for financial compensation, so you can stop worrying about that. I have enough money, I don't need anything from you. I most certainly won't let the Ministry buy itself free of its guilt, and much less I want you to start determining how much a lost life is worth. I want a public announcement that I am innocent, so that I won't get killed by a lynch-mob the first time I step out onto the street. I want that quickly, and I want it so clear that everybody understands what really happened back then. And most importantly, I want custody for my godson. And not at some point in the future, I want it now."

Fudge started to speak, then stopped short, shook his head, and started again, seemingly confused and agitated. "The _Daily Prophet_ can put it into tomorrow's edition. As of today, as soon as this meeting is over, everybody in the Ministry and law enforcement agencies will be informed. But I cannot give you custody for Harry Potter just like that."

There was a furious glint in Sirius' eyes that reminded Janus strongly of the at times short-tempered youth he had gotten to know. "And why not?", he hissed out.

"We're talking not about an ordinary teenager here, Mr. Black. Even if we were, the granting of custody is not an easy decision that can be made in the spur of a moment. And Harry Potter is more than an ordinary teenager. We need to make sure that his best interests are kept. And that he's sufficiently protected."

Janus had to hide a smile. Personally, he'd say that Fudge didn't give a damn about Potter's wellbeing. The Minister didn't care one bit about the boy, that should have become obvious during the past year. And Sirius seemed to see that as well.

"All you want is to keep him under your influence so that you can use him", he said, his voice raised. "Last year you could not repeat often enough that he was nuts to believe in Voldemort's return. And now that you can no longer deny that he's back, you want to make sure that you can use him for your own good should the opportunity arise. But I won't let you, do you understand me? Harry has been told often enough that he is no ordinary teenager, for once he could do with living like one. I'm his legal guardian, his parents made it my task – and my legal _right_ – to take care of him should anything happen to them. It was a right the Ministry has taken away from me, entirely unjustified, and now I claim it back. Right now. I think you're getting away pretty well in that bargain, Minister Fudge. And if you don't grant me the custody for my godson, rest assured that I will sue you and the Ministry for everything I can think of. I will go public with it, and then we'll see for how long you'll manage to remain in your office."

"Are you threatening me?"

Sirius looked him square in the eye. "If you're trying to deny me my right, you're damn right that I am threatening to pursue every chance to get my right."

Dumbledore, who had followed the whole procedure silently, smiled, stroke through his beard, and finally spoke up for the first time.

"Cornelius, I really think there is no legal ground for you to deny Mr. Black his right."  
"Dumbledore, you're saying you're on his side in this?"

Dumbledore nodded, which didn't surprise Janus at all. "Yes, I am. Maybe you should ask Harry what he wants. It isn't too long until he comes of age, he's old enough to have a say in this. And I assure you that he wants Mr. Black to be his guardian. I am not comfortable with the idea to remove him from the regular protection his blood relatives provide, but it's Mr. Black's right, and it should be his and Mr. Potter's decision."

Fudge made a face as if he had been stabbed in the back, then he pulled out a quill and wrote something into the file that was lying open in front of him.

"All right, the Department of Family Affairs will send somebody over to ask Mr. Potter about the custody question. Seeing that your financial affairs are laid open to the Ministry due to your imprisonment, there is no need for a financial check up. Given that Mr. Potter agrees to live with you, all I demand is that you cooperate with the caseworker from the Department of Family Affairs. If they advise a medical check-up and treatment, you will agree, and if they advise psychological check-up and treatment, you will agree. On that basis, we can agree on the custody question."

Sirius thought for a moment, then he nodded. "I will cooperate with the caseworker, but I want the custody sealed today, after they interview Harry. I most certainly won't give you the chance to back out of this one."

Janus had a hard time suppressing a smile. Sirius wasn't stupid, on the contrary. And Fudge looked as if he had swallowed a lemon. "All right", he pressed out from behind clenched teeth. He signed a parchment from the file and put down his quill. "I've just signed your official pardon. You're leaving this hearing as a free man, Mr. Black."

"I'd like a copy of the pardon, if you don't mind."

Fudge nodded, signed another parchment and pushed it across the table. Sirius picked up the parchment, folded it, and put it into the inner pocket of his robes. Then he sighed deeply, though Janus could see clearly from his position that his hands had been shaking slightly as he had picked up the parchment.

"All right, if that's about it, I'd like to go home now."

Fudge nodded sourly, obviously still trying to figure out from which point on this meeting had slid out of his control. Sirius got up from his chair, patted the pocket of his robes as if to make sure that the pardon hadn't slipped out. He nodded at Fudge, smiled quickly at Dumbledore, then turned towards the door. As he turned, his eyes met Janus', and for a short moment, something like surprise showed on his face, as if he hadn't noticed his presence until now. It was gone within an instant, then Sirius turned towards the door and left the Minister's office. Everybody else began filing out as well, so Janus got up from his chair and followed them out of the room.

As he walked down the corridors towards the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he tried to make up his mind about the meeting he had just witnessed. At least it had been interesting. Considering his own interests, it had been a complete waste of time, and it bugged him not only a little that he still didn't have a specific idea why Moody had wanted him to sit in on the meeting. Why Remus had wanted him to witness it, should his brother really be the one who had initiated his being here. And if it had been Remus' idea, why he had bothered to come. He had a damn lot of work to do even without his brother interfering.

When he finally reached his office, he kicked the door shut behind himself with a little more force than necessary, sank down in a chair and stared into the cold fireplace. The pot with floo powder was standing within reach, but even after he reached for it, he kept toying with it for a long time before he knelt down and made a call.

**Epilogue II – Spinner's End**

It was still dark at Spinner's End as two figures in dark robes made their way towards the outskirts of town. One of them was hurrying in front while the other was trying to keep up. The figure in front stopped as it reached a point from where the odd assortment of houses in front of them could still be seen, allowing the other person to catch up.

"Cissy, wait for me. You can't do this."

The woman in front turned around to her companion. "I've told you not to try and stop me, Bella. I have to do this."

"We don't know if we can trust him. _I_ don't trust him. You cannot do this."

The woman called Cissy shook her head. "But I trust him, always have. The Dark Lord also trusts him."

"I believe…Cissy, I think he might be mistaken."

This earned her only a headshake. "Just listen to yourself, Bella! I don't think he is, I think he's the only one who can help me now. I cannot lose…he's my only child, I cannot lose him. I need to do this. If you don't want any part in this, you can always leave."

"No, I most certainly won't leave. If you think you have to do this, I will come along and pay very close attention to what he and you tell each other. Don't you understand? I cannot allow you to betray our Lord."

The first woman shook her head. "I would never betray him, you know that. But I will do anything I can to save my son. The Dark Lord trusts him, and if this trust is as strong as I think it is, then he will already know the plan, and I won't betray anything. I will be careful, but I have to do this. If you had children, you would understand."

"If I had children, I would be glad if the Dark Lord put so much faith in them. I would gladly sacrifice my son for such a noble task."

The first woman shook her head. "You don't have children", she said softly, then she resumed her former walk in the direction of the houses. The second woman followed her suit, this time making sure to keep up her pace with the first.

"Are you sure that this is the place?"

The first woman nodded. "Yes, I am."

"But…but this is…there are muggles around. Only muggles. It's just so…so unlike him."

Narcissa Malfoy wordlessly continued her stride towards one of the houses in Spinner's End. Bellatrix Lestrange hesitated for a short moment, then she followed her cousin towards this unlikely place of residence for one of Lord Voldemort's most trusted Death Eaters. But whatever Narcissa was going to tell Severus Snape tonight, she would be there to listen.

**The End**


	47. Making History 2 Preview

September 1st, King's Cross, 10.52 a.m.

"_The delayed 10.43 Express from __Brighton__, to __Liverpool__ via __Birmingham__, is bound to arrive now on Platform eight. Passengers on Platform eight, please mind the arrival of the delayed 10.43 Express from __Brighton__ to __Liverpool__ via __Birmingham_"

It was one of many announcements, something perfectly ordinary in a station like King's Cross, yet for some reason Harry turned his head towards Platform eight which they were just passing. People were crowding the platform, preparing for the arrival of the train and the unavoidable chase for the best places in the train that was bound to follow. But somehow, Harry had a bad feeling about this. And then he saw it. It was just a glimpse, a figure that vanished in the crowd as quickly as it had appeared, but Harry was sure that he had not imagined it. It had been a man in dark robes, the hood drawn over his face. Of course his eyes could have played a trick on him, with the rain still pouring down mercilessly, a lot of people on the platforms and in the stations had the hoods of their jackets drawn over their heads, but Harry was pretty sure that he wasn't mistaken. His breath caught in his throat and he stopped short, standing on tip-toe and trying to get another glimpse at the figure he had seen for mere fragments of a moment. It couldn't be, yet he was so sure that he had seen a Death Eater on the platform.

Sirius was still holding on to Harry's arm, and when he realised that his godson had stopped, he tightened the grip of his hand and stopped as well.

"Harry? Come on, we need to get to the train."

His voice was nearly lost in the sound of the approaching express train from Liverpool, so Harry emphatically shook his head and continued to stare out at Platform eight. Sirius followed his gaze, his free hand gripping his wand more tightly.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought…I'm not sure, but I think there was a Death Eater on the platform."

Sirius didn't say anything, but the expression on his face changed from one second to the next. His brows drew together and his lips turned into a thin white line while his eyes restlessly scanned the crowd.

"Remus!", he called without looking away from the platform. Remus had continued towards Platform nine together with the others, but upon hearing Sirius' voice he stopped and retraced his steps towards them.

"What's wrong?"

"Take Harry to the platform, will you?"

Remus nodded and reached for Harry's arm to pull him along, and Harry already opened his mouth in protest when suddenly there was a flash of blinding white light from the far end of the rails on platform eight. With lightning-quick reflexes, Sirius grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pressed him down to the ground, shielding him with his own body and at the same time raising his wand and scanning the crowd.

Within moments, platform eight erupted in chaos. People were screaming, stampeding around, across and over each other in a desperate attempt to escape from the source of the explosion. With an effort, Harry turned his head and looked at the platform. Something was wrong there. Not only the people who were trying to leave the station, there was something weird about the rails. The blast hadn't been _on_ the platform, it had been on the rails. And the express train to Liverpool was pulling into the station. And even though the train was slowing down, it would still be too fast when it hit the blasted section of the rails…

Suddenly, Harry found himself hurled to his feet by two strong pairs of hands, and with Remus to his left and Sirius to his right was physically dragged into the direction of platform nine. He didn't think that he was even walking, Sirius and Remus were literally pulling him along. They were rapidly approaching the barrier that separated platform nine and ten, but all Harry could see were fleeing people, screaming people, people ducking for cover. He saw no trace of Ron, Ginny or the others with whom they had arrived, but as they got closer to the barrier, Tonks stepped out of it, her wand drawn and half-raised in front of her. As she hurried towards them, there was a huge crash behind them, followed by a horrible screeching of metal on metal at a fast speed, and the screams all around them increased in volume and intensity. Harry tried to turn his head, tried to see what was happening though he knew that the express train had reached the break in the rails and had derailed, but Sirius and Remus were holding him firmly and he couldn't move. Tonks increased her pace and ran the remaining distance towards them.

"The Platform is clear, the others and the luggage are already on the train. It'll leave any moment, we need to get Harry on board."

Suddenly she cocked her head and her eyes narrowed, as if she had seen something behind Remus' shoulder, and the fragment of a moment later, the greenish glow of a curse gone awry shot past Sirius' head. It was rapidly followed by another, and another, and now neither Sirius nor Remus cared about Harry's comfort for any longer as they pulled him along towards the barrier as quickly as they could while Tonks was providing cover for them. Harry finally managed to turn his head and saw a group of people in dark robes storm towards them, wands outstretched.

"Get Potter!", one of them bellowed, and that one sentence only served to speed Remus and Sirius up even more. But suddenly, Sirius released his hold on Harry's arm and in wordless understanding Remus tightened his grip on Harry and continued to drag him along the station. Harry turned around, tried to see what his godfather was doing, but all he could see were flashing curses and Sirius' back as he and Tonks interposed themselves between the approaching Death Eaters and started firing curses of their own towards them.

"Sirius!", Harry yelled and struggled against Remus' hold, but his former teacher had a very good grip on him. Just before they reached the barrier between platform nine and ten, the two Aurors who had accompanied the Ministry cars emerged and, without paying any mind to Harry and Remus, immediately stormed over towards where Sirius and Tonks were facing the Death Eaters.

"Remus, get Harry to the platform and seal the barrier!", Sirius' voice called from the distance, and before Harry could even form words of protest, Remus was pushing him through the barrier.

"Get on the train, Harry. We'll be in touch."

And suddenly Harry found himself standing on the nearly empty and incredibly calm Platform 9¾, where the Hogwarts Express' scarlet engine stood steaming and hooting, announcing the immediate departure. Harry turned around and threw himself at the wall through which he had come, wand clenched tightly between his fingers, but the wall was solid and wouldn't yield.

"Let me through!", he yelled, pounding his fists against the concrete, knowing that he probably wouldn't be heard on the other side, "Sirius! Let me through!"

excerpt from:

**_Making History (2) – The Fate of the Lost One_**


End file.
